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THE  MUSIC  DRAMAS  OF  RICH- 
ER AND  HIS  FESTI- 
VAL THEATRE    IN  BAYREUTHj*.* 
BY   ALBERT   LAVIGNAC  professor  of 

HARMONY  AT  THE  CONSERVATOIRE  AT   PARIS  & 


TRANSLATED  FROM  THE  FRENCH 
BY  ESTHER  SINGLETON  WITH 
ILLUSTRATIONS    AND    DIAGRAMS 


NEW  YORK^DODDMEAD  AND 
COMPANY  <*     &    j*  MDCCCCVI 


Copyright,  1S9S, 

By  Dodd,  Mead  and  Company. 


2SiuDrrsitii  ^Jrrss : 
John  Wilson  anp  Son.  Camiiriuge,  U  S.  A. 


PREFACE 

IN  writing  the  thousand  and  first  book  on  Richard 
Wagner  and  his  work,  I  do  not  pretend  to  accom- 
plish anything  better  than  has  yet  been  done.  My  aim 
has  been  something  quite  different, — a.  real  practical 
guide  to  Bayreuth  for  the  French  which  will  answer  the 
needs  and  satisfy  the  curiosity  of  those  of  our  nation 
who  have  not  yet  taken  that  little  journey,  which  is  so 
easy  and  attractive.  I.  have  also  desired  to  indicate  in 
what  state  of  mind  it  should  be  undertaken  and  what 
seductive  preliminary  studies  are  necessary  to  the  com- 
plete enjoyment  of  the  trip ;  finally,  it  has  been  my 
desire  to  present  the  Wagnerian  style  in  its  own  proper 
light,  by  dissipating  the  clouds  with  which  it  has  been 
enveloped  bv  certain  of  its  commentators,  who,  far  from 
smoothing  the  way,  have  made  it  bristle  with  difficulties. 
This  is  the  sole  criticism  I  will  allow  myself:  they  write 
for  Wagnerians,  not  for  neophytes. 

Of  course,  I  have  not  read  all  that  has  been  written 
about  Wagner,  —  one  human  life  would  not  suffice  for 
that,  and  one  would  have  to  be  a  polyglot,  —  but  I  have 
studied  a  very  large  number  of  important  works,  especially 
those  of  Ernst,  Scbure,  Chamberlain,  de  Brinn'  Gaubdst, 
the  biography  by  Adolphe  fullien  and  that  in  Grove's 
English  Dictionary,  Wagner's  Letters  and  Autobiographv, 
the    writings    of    fl'olzogen,    Maurice    Kufferath,    Soubies* 


vi  PREFACE 

Malherbc,  etc.,  all  very  remarkable  from  various  points 
of  view;  and  the  spirit  and  matter  of  these  I  have 
endeavoured  to  condense.  But  my  most  precious  doc- 
uments are  those  I  myself  collected  on  the  spot,  and 
among  them  arc  many  which  are  now  printed  for  the 
first  time  ;  for  these  I  am  indebted  to  the  kindness  of 
Herr  A.  von  Gross,  the  head  of  the  Biihnenfestspiel;  my 
learned  friend,  J.  B.  Weckerlin,  librarian  of  the  Conser- 
vatoire, has  greatly  facilitated  my  researches  for  others  ; 
and  I  have  laid  under  contribution  the  inexhaustible 
archives  of  M.  Lascoux,  one  of  the  first  and  most  en- 
thusiastic Wagnerians,  and  the  erudition  of  my  friend, 
Vincent  d'Indy,  from  one  of  whose  letters  I  have  not 
scrupled  to  borrow  whole  paragraphs. 

To  all  of  these  kind  collaborateurs  I  here  offer  my 
most  heartfelt  gratitude.  I  also  owe  thanks  to  my  pupil, 
Paul  Jumel,  wrho  has  aided  me  in  classifying  the  notes 
and  in   correcting  the   proofs. 

A.  L. 

Paris,   1897. 


CONTENTS 

Paces 

Preface           ,     .     .     .  v 

Chap.      I.  —  Life  in   Bayreuth I 

Chap.    II.  —  Biography 21 

History  of  the  Theatre 54 

Chap.  III. — Analysis  of  the  Poems       .....  68 

Tannhauser 84 

Lohengrin 96 

Tristan  und  Isolde 113 

Die  Meistersinger 125 

Die  Tetralogie  der  Ring  des  Nibelungen  155 

Das  Rheingold     .......  156 

Die  Walkure .  162 

Siegfried 177 

Die  Gotterdammerung 192 

Parsifal z  1  J 

Chap.  IV.  —  Analysis  of  the  Music       .....  235 

Tannhauser 263 

Lohengrin 272 

Tristan  und  Isolde 284 

Die  Meistersinger 316 

Der  Ring  des  Nibelungen 343 

Das  Rheingold 343 

Die  Walkure 367 

Siegfried 389 

Die  Gotterdammerung  .      .      .      .      .  413 

Parsifal 441 

Chap.     V.  —  The  Interpretation 474 

Bibliography 513 


ILLUSTRATIONS 

Pages 
Richard  Wagner Frontispiece 

View  of  Bayreuth  from   Festival-Theatre      ...  3 

Festival-Theatre,    Bayreuth 5 

Market  Place 1  I 

The  New  Castle 12 

The  Ermitage 16 

Wahnfried 19 

Wagner's  Birthplace  in   Leipzig 23 

Vendramin-Calergi    Palace,  Venice,   where  Wagner 

died 53 

Section  of  Orchestra 61 

Arrangement  of  the  Orchestra 62 

The  Hall,   the  Orchestra,    and  the  Stage     ...  64 

Section  of  the  Hall,  the  Orchestra,  and  the  Stage  67 

Hans   Richter 485 

Hermann  Levi 486 

Felix  Mottl 487 

Siegfried  Wagner 495 

Anton  Seidl 509 


The 
Music  Dramas  of  Richard  Wagner 


CHAPTER    I 

LIFE     IN     BAYREUTH 

"  O  ye  who  dwell  .  .  .  on  the  shore 
sacred  to  the  virgin  goddess  of  the 
golden  shafts  .  .  .  where  the  Greeks 
meet  in  famous  council  .  .  .  soon 
shall  the  glorious  voice  of  the  flute 
go  up  for  you  again,  resounding  with 
no  harsh  strain  of  grief,  but  with  such 
music  as  the  lyre  maketh  to  the 
gods!  "• —  Sophocles. 

BAYREUTH,  as  is  witnessed  by  the  beauty  of  many 
of  its  monuments  and  the  width  of  its  streets, 
had  its  period  of  splendour  when  it  was  the  residence  of 
the  Margraves  during  the  seventeenth  and  the  first  half 
of  the  eighteenth  century.  It  has  now  again  become  a 
fine  provincial  town,  quiet  and  easy-going  ;  life  should 
be  peaceful  and  comfortable  there,  to  judge  from  several 
imposing  private  hotels  which  are  almost  palatial,  the 
smart  houses  which  line  the  aristocratic  quarters,  and  the 
fine  theatre,  whose  interior,  a  veritable  marvel  of  the  "  ro- 
coco "  style,  attests  past  grandeur.  This  theatre,  which 
keeps  a  respectful  silence  when  its  celebrated  and  over- 
powering neighbour  begins  to  speak,  offers  nil  the  sweet- 
ness of  Italian  music,  of  opera  comique^  and  even  of 
operettas  to  the  inhabitants  of  Bayreuth,  who  seem   to 

i 


2  THE    MUSIC    DRAMAS 

welcome  with   interest  Les  Dragons  de   Hilars,  Lucia  di 
Lammermoor,  and  La  Fllle  de  Mme.  Angot. 

But  it  is  on  the  approach  of  the  performances  in  the 
Festival -Theatre  that  the  town  is  to  be  seen  departing 
from  its  accustomed  calm  and  adorning  itself  to  welcome 
its  guests,  who  become  more  numerous  each  season. 

A  full  month  in  advance  the  performers,  coming  from 
all  parts  of  Germany,  and  even  from  abroad,  to  co-operate 
in  the  great  work,  begin  to  animate  the  usually  silent 
streets  with  their  presence,  gathering  in  the  inns,  and 
from  morning  to  night  dotting  the  road  leading  to  the 
theatre,  to  which  they  are  called  by  the  numerous  re- 
hearsals. 

The  hotels  make  their  toilette ;  private  houses,  des- 
tined also  to  entertain  strangers,  are  put  in  their  best 
order:  nothing  is  too  good,  according  to  the  idea  of 
these  kind  and  hospitable  people,  for  the  expected  lodgers. 
The  housekeeper,  who  has  cleaned  her  house  from  top 
to  bottom  with  scrupulous  care,  in  honour  of  her  visitors 
deprives  herself  of  all  her  ornaments  to  decorate  their 
rooms  lavishly,  adding  garlands  and  bunches  of  artificial 
flowers.  She  selects  the  finest  embroidered  sheets  from 
her  chests,  and  provokingly  puts  covers,  which  are  always 
too  narrow,  on  them  by  means  of  a  complicated  system 
of  buttons.  The  first  night  or  two  we  are  a  little  out 
of  our  bearings,  but  we  quickly  grow  accustomed  to  this 
strange  fashion  and  soon  come  to  sleep  peacefully  under 
the  benevolent  eyes  of  the  host's  family  portraits,  among 
which  a  bust  of  Wagner  and  a  lithograph  of  Franz  Liszt 
are  always  found. 

During  this  period  of  preparation  and  work,  it  is  es- 
pecially in  the  neighbourhood  of  the  Festival -Theatre 
that  activity  is  concentrated.  The  artists  have  not 
always  the  time,  after  the  morning  rehearsal,  to  go  back 


OF   RICHARD    WAGNER 


4  THE    MUSIC    DRAMAS 

to  the  town  at  the  lunch  hour,  and  often  take  their  meal 
in  the  spacious  restaurant,  which  is  near  by,  and  which 
is  also  smartened  up  and  festooned  with  the  Bavarian 
colours  to  receive  in  a  tew  days  the  numerous  guests  to 
whom  it  will  serve  the  most  varied  menus  of  a  good  French 
cuisine.  In  the  meanwhile,  it  supplies  the  personnel  of  the 
theatre  with  a  very  comfortable  dinner  (in  Germany  they 
dine  at  one  o'clock),  for  the  modest  sum  of  one  mark. 
There  is  nothing  more  amusing  than  these  groups  in 
which  Siegfried  is  seen  fraternizing  with  Mime,  and  Par- 
sifal in  no  wise  terrified  by  the  presence  of  the  Flower- 
maidens.  At  a  table  set  in  the  open  air,  and  always 
surrounded  by  a  family  group,  dines  Hans  Richter,  who, 
with  his  sandy  beard,  large-brimmed  hat,  and  short  velvet 
coat,  would  be  recognized  among  a  thousand. 

But  the  hour  strikes;  it  is  time  to  get  back  to  work: 
the  large  break  drawn  by  two  white  horses,  well-known 
to  the  inhabitants  of  Bayreiith,  arrives,  and,  after  describ- 
ing a  skilful  curve,  sets  down  before  the  porch  of  the 
Theatre  the  inspirer  and  oracle  of  all  this  little  world, 
Fran  Wagner,  the  valiant  custodian  of  the  traditions  and 
wishes  of  the  Master,  whose  activity  never  forsakes  her 
and  who  is  present  at  all  the  rehearsals,  watching  over 
the  smallest  details.  Here  is  also  Herr  von  Gross,  who 
seconds  Frau  Wagner's  efforts  with  his  wide  knowledge 
of  affairs  and  enlightened  devotion. 

We  next  direct  our  steps  to  the  hall  where  the  door 
is  shut,  conscientiously  guarded  by  an  old  servant  of 
Wahnfricd.  The  silence  lasts  until  nightfall  and  is  only 
broken  by  occasional  pedestrians,  inhabitants  of  the  town, 
who  sometimes  stroll  as  far  as  this  to  enjoy  the  view  and 
the  splendid  sunsets  which  are  to  be  seen  from  the  ter- 
raced gardens  adjoining  the  Theatre. 

The  ordinary  rehearsals  are  strictlv  private  ;  but  to  the 


OF    RICHARD   WAGNER  5 

general  rehearsals  of  each  work,  which  take  place  just 
before  the  opening  of  the  season,  Frau  Wagner  invites 
her  friends  in  Bayreuth  (who  have  no  seats  at  the 
series,  which  are  all  reserved  for  strangers),  and  also  the 
families  of  her  faithful  auxiliaries,  the  artists. 

It  would  be  impossible,  moreover,  to  judge  of  the  de- 
sired sonorous  effects  if  these  final  rehearsals  took  place 
in  an  empty  hall ;  the  presence  of  the  spectators  very 
sensibly  improves  its  acoustics. 


FESTIVAL-THEATRE,    BAYREUTH 


The  date  fixed  months  before  for  the  first  performance 
at  last  arrives  :  every  one  is  at  his  post,  armed  and  ready  ; 
the  town  is  adorned  with  flags,  and,  let  it  be  said  in  pass- 
ing, there  is  no  fear  of  missing  the  French  colours  from 
among  the  flags  of  all  nationalities,  which  will  at  once 
reassure  those  people  who  are  doubtful  —  if  any  remain 
—  of  their  kind  reception  by  the  Bavarians. 

In  a  few  hours  Bayreuth  is  full  of  the  animation  of  its 
great    days.      People    very   limited   with    regard   to   time 


6  THE    MUSIC    DRAMAS 

often  arrive  at  the  last  moment ;  but  that  is  a  bad  plan, 
and  we  cannot  too  strongly  advise  those  who  can  do  it 
to  reserve  at  least  half  a  day  for  rest,  during  which  they 
may  familiarize  themselves  with  the  very  special  moral 
atmosphere  of  this  little  district,  before  they  climb  the 
leafy  road  which  leads  to  the  theatre.  People  do  not  go 
there  as  they  go  to  the  Opera  in  Paris,  or  in  any  other 
city,  taking  with  them  their  cares  of  yesterday  and  their 
worldlv  indifFerence.  Or,  at  least,  they  should  not  go 
thus,  for  it  would  be  voluntarily  depriving  themselves  of 
one  of  the  most  intense  artistic  emotions  it  is  possible  to 
experience,  if  they  entered  the  hall  of  the  Festival- 
Theatre  at  Bayreuth  without  being  sympathetically  at- 
tuned to  what  they  have  come  to  hear.  Unfortunately 
that  is  what  often  happens  now  that  the  Wagnerian 
pilgrimage  has  become  as  fashionable  as  it  is  to  go  to 
Spa,  or  to  Monte  Carlo.  I  know  perfectly  well  that  it 
is  impossible  to  make  all  the  spectators  pass  an  examina- 
tion before  permitting  them  to  enter  the  hall,  or  to  make 
sure  that,  either  by  their  musical  education  or  by  the 
intelligent  interest  which  they  take  in  matters  of  art, 
they  are  worthy  to  enter  into  the  sanctuarv  ;  but  it  must 
be  confessed  that  it  is  painful  to  hear  the  absurd  remarks 
which  show  how  unworthy  is  a  certain  portion  of  the 
public  that  now  frequents  Bayreuth.  I  have  heard  one 
woman  ask  who  was  the  author  of  the  piece  to  be  given 
the  next  day  ;  and  another  rejoiced  that  they  were  going 
to  perform  Sigurd  (/),  which  she  liked  so  much.  Her 
companion,  an  enlightened  musician,  to  whom  she  made 
this  astonishing  remark,  set  himself  respectfully,  though 
greatly  distressed,  to  correct  her  grave  error,  and  began  to 
sketch  for  her  the  subject  of  the  Tetralogy,  which,  indeed, 
interested  her  very  much,  for  she  had  not  the  least  notion 
of  it,  when,  darkness  enveloping  the  hall  and  the  grum- 


OF   RICHARD   WAGNER  7 

Mings  of  the  admirable  prelude  to  the  first  act  of  Die 
IValkiire  being  heard,  it  was  necessary  to  interrupt  this 
education,  alas  !   so  tardily  begun. 

More  than  an  hour  before  the  time  fixed  for  the  play 
a  long  line  of  carriages  forms  to  bring  the  public  to  the 
theatre.  These  carriages,  too  few  for  the  number  of 
rich  amateurs,  are  taken  by  assault ;  it  is  well  to  engage 
them  in  advance  if  you  do  not  wish  to  go  on  foot, 
which  you  can  do  in  a  delightful  walk  of  about  twenty 
minutes  along  the  shady  lanes  parallel  with  the  principal 
avenue.  The  landaus  and  victorias,  somewhat  out  of 
date  and  made  to  be  drawn  by  two  horses,  have  never 
more  than  one,  harnessed  to  the  right  side  of  the  shaft 
(as  horses  are  scarce),  which  produces  the  most  comic 
effect. 

If  you  are  among  the  first  to  arrive,  you  have  ample 
leisure  to  examine  the  new-comers  and  to  notice  that  the 
toilettes  have  singularly  gained  in  elegance  during  the 
past  years.  Formerly  every  one  was  contented  with  a 
simple  travelling  costume  ;  then,  little  by  little,  the  stan- 
dard rose,  and  if  tourists'  costumes  are  seen  now,  they 
are  in  the  minority.  I  speak  here  principally  of  the 
ladies,  who  display  bright  and  fresh  toilettes.  The  sole 
annoying  point  for  them  is  the  hat,  which  they  will  not 
consent  to  leave  with  the  attendants  during  the  acts, 
when  it  is  strictly  forbidden  to  keep  it  on  the  head. 
They  resign  themselves,  then,  to  holding  it  on  their  lap, 
which  is  scarcely  comfortable. 

This  moment  of  waiting  in  the  open  air  and  daylight, 
for  the  performance  begins  at  four  o'clock  {Rheingcld, 
which  begins  at  five  o'clock,  is  an  exception),  is  perfectly 
charming.  The  situation  of  the  Theatre,  admirably 
chosen  by  Wagner,  commanding  a  smiling  country  with 
the  town  in  the  foreground  and  the  woods  and  meadows 


8  THE    MUSIC    DRAMAS 

of  green  Franconia  for  the  horizon,  is  absolutely  enchant- 
ing. However,  it  must  not  rain ;  for  the  building,  so 
well  arranged  for  everything  else,  only  offers  under  its  ex- 
terior galleries  which  are  open  to  every  wind,  a  poor 
shelter,  where  at  such  times  the  public  huddles  under 
umbrellas  streaming  with  rain.  But,  doubtless,  God 
protects  the  spectators  of  Bayreuth,  for  it  is  generally 
fine,  and  you  can  stay  outside  till  the  last  moment. 

Now  let  us  go  into  the  hall  and  make  its  acquaintance 
while  it  is  still  brightly  illuminated. 

You  enter  it  in  the  simplest  way  :  no  black-coated 
gentlemen  are  seated  behind  a  desk.  One  employe  only 
is  found  at  each  of  the  numerous  entrances  to  see  that 
you  have  not  mistaken  your  door,  and  tears  off  the  cou- 
pon of  the  performance  for  that  day.  You  will  come 
back  again  after  each  entr'acte  without  any  one  troubling 
about  you. 

The  hall,  which  we  will  describe  later  in  detail,  before 
the  curtain  rises  gives  one  the  impression  of  an  aviary  in 
full  activity  ;  every  one  is  moving  about,  more  or  less 
excited,  talking  with  his  neighbour,  exchanging  his  im- 
pressions, or  relating  his  previous  visits  to  this  musical 
city;  then  you  search  the  distant  rows  for  friends,  or 
simply  for  the  well-known  faces  of  those  whom  you  know 
to  be  attending  the  same  series  as  yourself. 

During  this  time  the  gallery  reserved  for  the  crowned 
heads,  and  which  is  called  the  Royal  Boxes,  fills.  Frau 
Wagner's  seats  are  filling  in  their  turn.  Her  aristocratic 
profile  is  visible;  she  seats  herself  in  the  front  row  with 
her  delightful  daughters,  and  Siegfried  Wagner,  the  living 
image  of  his  father,  joins  them  when  his  duties  do  not 
call  him  to  the  orchestra  or  upon  the  stage.  However, 
the  last  call  of  the  trumpets  (see  Chapter  V.)  sounds 
outside   and  the  rare  late   arrivals  come    in.     Suddenly 


OF   RICHARD    WAGNER  9 

darkness  envelops  the  hall  and  there  is  perfect  silence. 
I  should  like  it  better  if  people  were  silent  from  the  very 
first.  It  seems  to  me  that  all  this  agitation  is  a  bad 
preparation  for  what  is  to  come ;  but  it  cannot  be 
prevented. 

The  eye  can  distinguish  nothing  at  first,  then  it  grad- 
ually gets  accustomed  to  the  feeble  light  produced  by 
some  lamps  near  the  ceiling. 

From  this  moment  one  might  hear  a  pin  drop;  every 
one  concentrates  his  thoughts,  and  every  heart  beats 
with  emotion.  Then  amidst  the  luminous  and  golden 
haze  which  rises  from  the  depths  of  the  "mystic  abyss,'1 
mount,  warm,  vibrant,  and  velvety,  the  incomparable 
harmonies  unknown  elsewhere,  which,  taking  possession 
of  your  whole  being,  transport  you  to  a  world  of  dreams. 
The  curtain  opens  in  the  middle  and  masses  itself 
on  each  side  of  the  stage,  exposing  to  view  scenery 
which,  as  a  rule,  is  very  beautiful.  Criticism,  which 
never  gives  up  its  rights,  disapproves  of  many  things, 
though  almost  always  wrongly  in  our  opinion ;  but  let 
us  set  that  question  aside  (as  well  as  the  performance, 
which  will  be  fully  dealt  with  hereafter)  to  recall  our 
impressions  at  the  end  of  the  act,  when,  the  last  chord 
having  sounded,  we  start  from  our  ecstasy  to  go  and 
breathe  the  pure  air  outside. 

Let  us  state  in  passing  that  the  atmosphere  of  the 
hall,  thanks  probably  to  an  ingenious  system  of  venti- 
lation, has  never  seemed  mephitic  to  us,  like  the  ma- 
jority of  theatres  we  know;  on  returning  we  do  not 
experience  that  asphyxiating  sensation  that  is  usually  so 
disagreeable. 

Nothing  could  be  more  delicious  or  more  restful 
than  these  entractes  passed  in  the  open  air,  nor  could 
anything  be  gayer ;   we  find   many  people  there,  we  hear 


io  THE   MUSIC   DRAMAS 

French  spoken  on  all  sides,  and  we  have  the  feeling  of 
beino-  at  home,  as  on  coming  out  of  the  Conservatoire, 
or  the  Lamoureux  or  Colonne  concerts.  The  memory 
of  our  "  absent  country  "  does  not  come  into  our  minds 
with  any  sadness. 

Usually  at  the  end  of  the  performance  people  go  to 
supper  in  one  of  the  large  restaurants  immediately  ad- 
joining the  theatre.  There  is  a  third,  a  little  higher  up 
and  a  little  more  isolated,  where  those  who  like  to  pro- 
long their  meditations  will  find  a  calm,  quiet,  and 
comfortable  retreat. 

It  is  prudent  to  engage  a  table  in  advance  at  the  large 
restaurant,  for  without  doing  so  we  risk  a  very  late 
supper.  The  cuisine  there  is  excellent.  We  can  either 
select  a  very  choice  menu,  for  which  we  shall  have  to 
pav  accordingly  -,  or  we  can  satisfy  ourselves  for  a  very 
reasonable  price.  The  artists  often  meet  there,  and 
when  after  the  performance  one  who  has  greatly  de- 
lighted the  public  enters,  it  is  not  rare  to  see  everybody 
spontaneously  rise  to  give  him  a  warm  and  noisy  ova- 
tion. And  this  so  much  the  more  willingly  because  they 
never  appear  on  the  stage  to  receive  the  plaudits  of  their 
admirers.  This  is  a  custom  which  Wagner  established 
from  the  first.  At  first  it  was  even  strictly  prohibited 
to  applaud  at  the  end  of  the  work,  and  the  perform- 
ances of  the  Ring,  which  during  the  first  year  formed 
the  programme  of  the  Festivals,  ended  in  a  respectful 
and  affecting  silence,  which  certainly  agreed  better  with 
the  poignant  impression  left  by  the  admirable  final  scene 
than  noisy  demonstrations  ;  however,  several  regrettable 
infractions  of  the  rule  took  place,  the  enthusiasm  mani- 
festing itself  in  the  usual  way,  which  was  against 
Wagner's  wish,  and  which  he  had  much  trouble  in 
repressing.      It    has    always    remained  the  tradition    not 


OF    RICHARD    WAGNER 


ii 


to  applaud  Parsifal,  but  for  the  other  works  the  public 
has  had  its  way :  it  is  not  possible  to  prevent  the 
bravos  from  breaking  out  at  the  end  ot  the  perform- 
ance. The  public  even  took  it  into  its  head,  in  1896, 
at  the  end  of  the  first  series,  to  call  for  Richter,  who  had 
conducted  the  Tetralogy  in  a  masterly  manner.  For  more 
than  a  quarter  of  an  hour  frantic  applause  and  shouts, 
enough  to  bring  the  house  down,  were  heard  on  every 


MARKET    PLACE 


side ;  but  the  noble  and  modest  artist,  faithful  to  the 
established  rule,  did  not  yield  to  the  general  wish,  and 
remained  obstinately  invisible;  he  even  avoided  showing 
himself  at  supper  where  he  doubtless  feared  a  renewal  of 
the  demonstrations.  A  similar  scene  recurred  over  Mottl 
eight  days  later.  He  had  literally  electrified  his  audience 
by  his  admirable  conducting  of  the  orchestra ;  but,  be- 
«*g  just  as  retiring  as  his  rival,  he  kept  out  of  sight 
with  the  same  modesty.      And   when   Siegfried  Wagner's 


12 


THE    MUSIC    DRAMAS 


turn  came  to  conduct  his  father's  work,  he  also  respect- 
fully conformed  to  the  tradition,  notwithstanding  the 
sympathetic   recalls   of  the   entire   audience. 

The  mornings  pass  quickly  in  Bayreuth;  while  waiting 
for  the  Theatre  to  open  we  visit  the  town  and  the  mon- 
uments, which,  to  tell  the  truth,  have  only  a  secondary 
interest ;  but  it  is  charming  to  lounge  about  there. 


TIIK   NEW   CASTLE 


The  local  guides  will  tell  the  reader  that  he  must  see 
th  ancient  castle,  where  there  is  a  tower,  to  the  top  of 
which  you  can  drive  in  a  carriage  (as  in  the  Chateau 
d'Amboise),  and  from  which  a  beautiful  view  is  to  be 
had  of  the  surrounding  country,  gay,  smiling,  and  fer- 
tile; the  new  castle  also,  which  contains  a  collection 
of  indifferent  pictures;  they  also  point  out  the  statues  of 
kings,  writers,  and  pedagogues  which  adorn  the  squares, 
and  tell  him  the  number  of  churches  he  should  visit,  enu- 
merating, meanwhile,  the  tombs  of  the  Margraves  which 
they  contain.      The   conscientious   tourist   will   certainly 


OF    RICHARD    WAGNER  13 

not  neglect  to  make  this  round  in  detail.  Others,  on 
the  contrary,  maintaining  that  they  have  come  solely  on 
a  musical  pilgrimage,  do  not  wish  to  know  anything  else 
than  the  road  leading  to  the  Festival -Theatre. 

Many  people  employ  their  mornings  in  reading  over 
the  score  which  they  will  hear  in  the  evening,  or  the 
poem,  and  these  are  not  the  worst  employed.  You  can 
procure  a  passable  piano  at  a  large  price,  but  you  must 
be  a  millionaire  to  hire  a  grand  piano  !  In  every  street 
are  heard  harmonious  chords,  and  from  numerous  open 
windows   float   the  well-known   Leit-motive. 

The  loungers,  to  rest  their  minds,  content  themselves 
with  quiet  walks  through  the  streets  and  with  visits  to 
the  book-shops,  where  are  to  be  seen  the  classic  collec- 
tion of  portraits  of  the  Master,  the  photographs  of  the 
principal  artists,  and  a  lithograph  representing  an  "  Even- 
ing at  Wahnfried."  Formerly  there  were  also  shops 
for  "  souvenirs  of  Bayreuth,"  which  offered  all  possible 
extravagances  and  were  really  amusing.  At  that  time 
announcements   like  the  following   might  be  seen  : 


Novell.        £»Qtrtcnir  of  toreutl).         n£>%. 

A  very  pretty  box.  decorated  with  scenes  from  the  operas 
of  Richard  Wagner,  and  containing  SPICED  BREAD  of 
an  exquisite  flavour,  highly  recommended  to  all  visitors 
to  the  Festivals. 


Cljoice  Selection. 

Cuff  Buttons  and  Scarf  Pins,  with  the  Por- 
trait of  our  great  Master,  RICHARD  WAGNER. 


i4  THE   MUSIC    DRAMAS 

But  they  have  now  become  more  quiet,  and  this  year 
you  would  have  much  trouble  to  find  foulards  with 
the  Festival -Theatre  printed  in  two  colours,  and  shirt- 
fronts   embroidered   in   Leit-motive. 

The  lunch-hour  comes  quickly ;  then,  according  to 
our  purse  or  our  tastes,  we  go  either  to  one  of  the  fine 
and  famous  restaurants  which  are  found  in  the  principal 
streets  and  in  all  the  large  hotels  (there  we  can  meet 
with  the  stars  and  the  principal  people  of  the  Theatre), 
or  to  the  more  picturesque  and  characteristic  inns,  such 
as  Vogl  or  Sammt,  where  the  artists  and  the  old  inhabit- 
ants of  Bayreuth   often   meet  after  the  performances. 

Here  in  the  open  air  we  can  try  the  excellent  beer 
of  the  country,  served  in  a  mug  of  extraordinary  height 
and  capacity,  surmounted  by  a  pewter  lid,  which  is  as 
embarrassing  to  novices  as  the  long-necked  vase  was  to 
the  fox  in  the  fable.  For  these  mugs  you  pay  the  aston- 
ishing price  of  fifteen  pfennige.  With  this  Bavarian  beer 
it  is  not  unfitting  to  take  an  otnelette  aux  confitures,  or 
those  delicious  Pfannkucben^  of  which  only  the  German 
cuisine  has  the  secret,  or  a  dish  of  sausages  and  sauerkraut. 
Let  not  delicate  palates  exclaim  at  this :  what  seems 
gross  at  home  often  becomes  delicious  when  served  in 
its  proper  surroundings.  The  buffet  at  the  station  also 
offers  those  who  would  lunch  a  resource  of  which  one 
rarelv  thinks;  there  you  are  well  treated,  and  served 
mure  quickly  than   elsewhere. 

Let  it  be  said  here  that,  contrary  to  the  accepted  idea, 
the  trip  to  Bayreuth  does  not  necessarily  mean  an  exces- 
sive expenditure,  and  is  within  the  reach  of  moderate 
purses.  Thinking  how  profitable  and  instructive  it 
might  be  for  musical  students,  or  even  for  young  ama- 
teurs of  limited  means,  to  be  able  to  attend  these  model 
performances,  we  have  studied  the  plan  of  this  journey 


OF    RICHARD    WAGNER  15 

from  an  economical  standpoint,  even  setting  ourselves, 
with  this  end  in  view,  to  try  the  restaurants  of  different 
grades  which  seemed  acceptable  to  us ;  and  we  have 
calculated  that  a  young  man  who  does  not  mind  travel- 
ling second  class,  and  taking  twenty-four  hours  on  the 
journey  to  Nuremberg,  will  spend  on  the  railway,  going 
and  returning,  very  nearly  one  hundred  and  thirty  francs 
(the  return  ticket  is  I2ifr.  25c).  Let  us  allow  him 
about  forty  francs  for  extras  and  restaurants  during  the 
two  days  that  he  spends  en  route,  going  and  returning;  this 
makes  one  hundred  and  seventy  francs.  It  is  possible 
to  live  very  comfortably  in  Bayreuth  for  a  dozen  francs 
a  day,  room  and  meals.  It  now  remains  to  see  how 
many  performances  he  wants  to  attend,  and  to  remember 
that  the  price  of  a  single  seat  is  twenty-five  francs. 
Admitting  that  he  attends  four,  which  up  to  the  present 
time  1  has  constituted  the  longest  series,  we  shall  arrive 
at  the  conclusion,  without  being  great  mathematicians, 
that  he  can  pay  for  everything  during  six  days'  absence 
with  three  hundred  and  fifty  francs.  It  is  certain  that 
he  must  not  indulge  himself  in  any  follies,  or  even  use- 
less expenses,  that  he  must  be  content  with  a  simple 
valise  to  avoid  the  expenses  of  baggage  (nothing  is 
carried  free  in  Germany),  that  he  will  make  use  of  his 
own  legs  in  his  excursions,  and  that  he  will  not  bring 
back  a  present  for  each  member  of  his  family.  But,  on 
the  other  hand,  what  profound,  indelible  memories  he 
will  return  with,  and  what  a  precious  lesson  he  will 
have  gained  ! 

He  who  intends  to  travel  comfortably,  and  without 
denying  himself  anything,  must  expect  to  spend  from 
five  hundred  to  six  hundred  francs. 

1  For  the  first  time  in  1897  there  were  five  works  represented, 
the  Tetralogy  and  Parsifal. 


i6 


THE    MUSIC    DRAMAS 


During  the  days  of  rest  which  separate  the  perform- 
ances, or  in  the  mornings,  it  is  pleasant  to  make  some 
of  the  excursions  which  the  environs  offer. 

You  can  go  to  Berneck ;  the  trip  is  about  two 
hours  in  a  carriage  ;  it  shows  you  a  picturesque  corner 
in  the  smiling  valley  of  the  CElsnitz  ;  the  little  town  is 
beautifully  situated  on  the  rock  in  a  wild  and  mountain- 
ous country  ;   it  makes  a  delightful  walk. 


THE   KRMITAGE 


There  is  also  the  Ermitage,  whose  beautiful  park 
and  celebrated  elm-grove  merit  more  attention  than  the 
horrible  structure  of  the  castle,  encrusted  from  top  to 
bottom  with  shell-work  and  cut  pebbles.  Let  us  men- 
tion, however,  a  very  graceful  colonnade  in  hemicycle, 
also  the  basins  in  which  they  will  make  different  jets  of 
water  play  in  your  honour,  recalling  the  far  distant  ones 
of  Versailles. 

The  Fantaisie,  the  park  of  which  is  open  to  the 
public,  is  a  private  estate,  which  is  almost  always  rented 


OY    RICHARD    WAGNER  17 

during  the  season  to  some  distinguished  visitor.  From 
the  terrace  of  the  castle  there  is  a  lovely  and  melan- 
choly view,  which  reminds  you  of  certain  compositions 
of  Gustave  Dore. 

All  of  these  places  are  naturally  provided  with  restau- 
rants where  you  can  lunch;  here  are  to  be  found  our 
neighbours  of  yesterday  and  to-morrow,  as  well  as  the 
artists,  who  come  with  their  families  to  rest  after  their 
interesting  but  severe  labours.  Sympathetic  relations 
are  quickly  established,  and  you  cannot  resist  the  pleas- 
ure of  seizing  their  hand,  even  if  you  do  not  know 
them,  and  congratulating  them  on  their  intelligent  inter- 
pretation. You  can  express  yourself  in  French,  if  you 
do  not  speak  German  ;  such  things  are  understood  in 
all  languages.  In  my  opinion,  one  of  the  charms  in 
the  life  in  Bayreuth  is  this  frequent  meeting  with  the 
artists,  whose  lives  are  so  often  full  of  interesting  par- 
ticulars. 

You  also  have  the  chance  of  seeing  them  at  Wahn- 
fried,  if  good  fortune  gives  you  any  right  of  introduc- 
tion there. 

Frau  Wagner,  triumphing  over  all  the  fatigues  caused 
by  her  arduous  occupation,  every  week  during  the  sea- 
son gives  entertainments,  to  which  she  invites  her  per- 
sonal friends  and  a  small  number  of  the  happy  elect. 
As  precious  as  any  other  memories  are  those  passed  in 
the  house  of  the  Master,  which  is  still  so  full  of  him, 
and  amongst  those  who  have  known  and  been  with  him. 

How  can  we  describe  the  exceptional  charm  of  the 
mistress  of  the  house,  and  the  exquisite  affability  with 
which  she  receives  the  most  modest,  as  well  as  the  most 
authoritative,  admirers  of  Wagner?  We,  for  our  part, 
are  profoundly  touched  by  it,  as  well  as  with  her 
gracious    and    very    particular    courtesy    to    the   French. 


1 8  THE    MUSIC    DRAMAS 

Frau  Wagner  is  admirably  seconded  in  her  role  by  hei 
son  and  by  her  very  charming  daughters,  who  rival  each 
other  in  the  amiable  reception  of  their  guests. 

At  these  receptions  the  interpreters  from  the  Theatre 
are  often  heard,  and  sometimes  foreign  artists,  marvel- 
lously accompanied  by  Herr  Mottl,  who,  not  contenting 
himself  with  being  a  great  orchestral  conductor,  is  also 
a  pianist  of  the  highest  order. 

The  large  central  hall  in  the  villa,  where  they  have 
the  music,  is  ornamented  with  a  very  handsome  bust  of 
Wagner,  and  statues  of  his  principal  heroes  :  the  Flying 
Dutchman,  Tannhauser,  Lohengrin,  Walter  von  Stol- 
zing,  and  Hans  Sachs.  A  frieze  en  grisaille  represents 
the  principal  scenes  of  the  Tetralogy.  The  superb 
library  adjoining  this  hall  proves,  by  the  number  and 
selection  of  its  volumes,  the  rare  erudition,  as  well  as  the 
eclecticism  of  him  who  formed  it.  Here,  also,  among  a 
profusion  of  objects  of  art  and  precious  souvenirs,  we 
admire  interesting  portraits  of  the  Master  and  his  wife. 

The  villa  is  situated  in  a  fine  park  at  the  end  of 
Richard  Wagner  street,  originally  named  Renniveg,  one 
of  the  principal  arteries  of  the  town.  It  is  built  in  the 
style  of  a  Roman  villa,  and  in  front,  above  the  entrance 
door,  is  an  allegorical  fresco  representing  Wotan  and  his 
two  ravens,  with  Tragedy  and  Music  on  either  side,  and 
with  them  stands  the  young  Siegfried,  the  "chef-d'oeuvre 
of  the  future."  Beneath  it  an  inscription  reads  :  "  Here 
where  my  imagination  has  found  peace,  this  house  shall 
be  called  by  me  the  peace  of  imagination."  l 

1  The  German  words  are  :  "  Hier  wo  mein  Wahnen  Frieden 
fand,  Wahnfricd  sci  dieses  Ilausvon  mir  benannt."  The  figures  of 
the  fresco  arc  portraits  :  Wotan  represents  Betz  ;  Tragedy,  Mme. 
Schroeder-Devrient  ;  Music,  Cosima  Wagner  ;  and  Siegfried,  Sieg- 
fried Wagner.  —  E.  S. 


OF    RICHARD   WAGNER 


19 


It  is  in  the  grounds  of  this  estate,  in  a  spot  selected 
by  himself,  that  the  Master  sleeps  his  last  sleep,  near 
those  who  loved  him  so  much  and  who  only  live  to 
venerate  and  glorify  his  memory.  On  Sunday  morning, 
accomplishing  a  pious  pilgrimage,  you  can  pass  through 
the  gate,  which  is  then  open,  to  the  severe  and  bare 
tomb  overlooking  the  city's  recreation  ground,  a  beauti- 
ful park  planted  with  ancient  trees. 


WUTNI'RIFD 


Not  far  away  in  the  Bayreuth  cemetery,  the  Abbe 
Liszt  reposes  in  a  chapel,  still  encumbered  with  offer- 
ings of  sorrow  from  his  numerous  worshippers.  Death 
surprised  him  in  1886,  during  the  performances  at  Bay- 
reuth, whither  he  had  come,  already'  ill,  to  visit  his 
daughter  and  to  bring  once  again  the  homage  of  his 
affectionate  admiration  for  the  work  of  the  friend  whom 
he  had  been  one  oftthe  first  to  understand,  and  whom 
he  had  never  ceased  to  console  and  comfort  in  the  pain- 
ful road  to  glory. 


20  THE    MUSIC    DRAMAS 

When  we  read  Wagner's  correspondence  and  biogra- 
phies, and  take  into  consideration  his  struggles,  the  in- 
numerable difficulties  encountered  on  the  way,  the  ill-will, 
the  unintelligent  fetters  which  retarded  for  so  many  years 
the  expansion  of  his  labours  (which  did  not  go  so  far  as 
to  make  him  doubt  his  own  genius  —  he  felt  it  working 
in  him  too  powerfully  to  be  able  to  mistake  it  —  but 
sufficiently  to  make  him  doubt  if  he  would  ever  be 
allowed  to  spread  his  wings),  when  we  recall  all  this 
bitterness,  all  this  sadness,  and  when  we  now  see  the 
work  standing  full  of  life,  increasing  every  day,  and 
gathering  around  it  so  many  faithful  devotees  in  this 
town  of  Bayreuth,  almost  unknown  hitherto,  and  to- 
day bearing  inscribed  forevermore  in  letters  of  gold  this 
glorious  name  which  serves  it  as  a  luminous  aureole, 
when  we  see  these  thousands  of  pilgrims  coming  from 
all  parts  of  the  world  to  bring  the  tribute  of  their  enthu- 
siastic cult,  and  lastly,  when  we  remember  that  all  this 
is  the  result  of  the  will  and  of  the  greatness  of  one 
human  brain,  we  remain  silent,  pensive,  and  filled  with 
admiration  for  that  prodigious  intellect  and  that  match^ 
less  organization,  whose  equal  cannot  be  found  among 
the  annals  of  the  past. 


OF    RICHARD    WAGNER  21 


CHAPTER   II 


BIOGRAPHY 


"  It  was  necessary  that  he  should   suf- 
fer, for  he  was  a  man  of  genius." 

H.  Heine. 

RICHARD  WAGNER,  born  in  Leipzig,  May  22, 
18 13,  was  the  son  of  Carl  Fricdrich  IVilhelm 
J  Vaguer,  a  police-officer  raised  to  the  rank  of  chief  of 
police  by  Davoust  during  the  French  occupation,  and  of 
'Johanna   Rosina   Bertz,  who   died    in    1848. 

Several  of  Richard  Wagner's  eight  brothers  and  sisters 
embraced  the  theatrical  career :  Albert,  who  was  the 
father  of  Johanna  Jachmann,  a  celebrated  singer;  Jo- 
hanna Rosalie,  wife  of  Oswald  Marbach,  who  was  a  dis- 
tinguished actress;  and  Clara  Uilb'-lmhie,  who  was  also 
a  talented  singer. 

After  the  battle  of  Leipzig  an  epidemic  carried  off  the 
father  of  the  family,  who  left  his  widow  in  a  precarious 
condition.  She  was  married  again  in  18 15  to  Ludwig 
Geyer,  an  actor,  minor  dramatist,  and  portrait-painter. 
Geyer  took  his  wife  and  her  children  to  Dresden,  where 
an  engagement  called  him  ;  he  conceived  a  deep  affection 
for  the  little  Richard  (who  loved  him  like  a  father),  and 
wanted  to  make  a  painter  of  him.  But  the  child  showed 
little  aptitude  for  drawing,  and  manifested,  on  the  other 
hand,  a  marked  inclination  for  music.  Wagner  himself 
relates  that  the  day  before  his  stepfather's  death  in  1821, 
having  played  on  the  piano  some  pieces  which  his  sisters 


22  THE    MUSIC    DRAMAS 

had  taught  him,  he  heard  the  dying  man  in  the  next 
room  say  in  a  weak  voice  :  "  Will  he  have  the  gift  of 
music  ?  " 

From  his  earliest  years  Wagner  had  an  absolute  passion 
for  Weber ;  he  knew  Der  Freischiitz  bv  heart,  and  hid 
himself  to  watch  its  composer,  who  frequently  came  to 
see  Mme.  Geyer,  whose  great  intelligence  made  her  a 
favourite  with   artists. 

From  the  beginning  of  his  studies  in  the  Kreutzschule 
of  Dresden  he  showed  a  strong  taste  for  literature,  as 
well  as  a  manifest  facility  for  versification.  ./Eschylus, 
Sophocles,  and  Shakespeare,  strongly  excited  his  admira- 
tion, and  under  their  influence  he  planned  a  great  drama 
in  which  the  forty-two  characters  all  died  in  the  course 
of  the  play,  so  that  in  order  to  finish  his  fifth  act  he  had 
to  bring  them  back  as  spectres. 

In  1827  he  had  been  taken  from  the  Kreutzschule, 
where  he  had  reached  the  third  grade,  and  placed  in  the 
Nicolaischule  in  Leipzig,  in  the  fourth,  which  completely 
discouraged  him.  He  became  a  very  bad  pupil,  and 
neglected  his  studies  to  devote  himself  exclusively  to  his 
drama.  During  this  period  he  heard  at  the  Gewandhaus 
Concerts  for  the  first  time  Beethoven's  Symphonies  and 
Egmont,  which  made  a  deep  impression  upon  him.  In 
his  enthusiasm  he  wanted  to  write  music  for  his  wonder- 
ful drama,  and  diligently  set  to  work,  to  the  great  distress 
of  his  familv  who  did  not  believe  in  his  vocation.  How- 
ever, he  insisted  to  such  a  degree  that  he  succeeded  in 
getting  music  lessons  with  an  organist  named  Miiller. 
Fearing  nothing,  he  wrote  an  overture  for  full  orchestra, 
which  he  managed  to  have  performed.  "  This,"  he 
says,  "  was  the  culminating  point  of  my  absurdities. 
What  I  did,  above  all  things,  wrong  was  a  roll  fortissimo 


OF    RICHARD    WAGNER 


23 


upon  the  kettle-drums,  which  returned  regularly  every 
four  bars  throughout  the  composition.  The  surprise 
which  the  public  experienced  changed  first  to  uncon- 
cealed ill-humour,  and  then  into  laughter  which  greatly 
mortified   me  !  " 


WAGNER'S    BIRTHPLACE    IN    LEIPZIG 


Then  come  the  troubles  of  July,  1830,  when  young 
Richard  turns  his  thoughts  solely  to  revolutionary  politics, 
and,  entering  into  them  with  might  and  main,  he  aban- 
dons  all    his    studies,   including   music.       He,   however, 


24  THE    MUSIC    DRAMAS 

enters  the  University  of  Leipzig  to  follow  the  courses  of 
aesthetics  and  philosophy,  but  gives  himself  up  to  the 
extravagances  of  student  life.  Luckilv,  this  soon  dis- 
gusts him,  and  he  feels  the  need  of  returning  to  his 
work.  He  has  the  good  fortune  to  find  in  the  excellent 
Theodor  Weinlig  a  remarkable  professor,  who  knows 
how  to  gain  his  confidence,  and  induces  him  to  make  a 
thorough  studv  of  fugue  and  counterpoint.  He  learns 
to  know  and  appreciate  Mozart,  and  composes  a  Polo- 
naise and  Sonata,  awkward  imitations  of  the  styles  of 
Beethoven  and  Schubert,  which  he  dedicates  to  his 
master  Weinlig.  These  two  compositions  were  pub- 
lished at  Breitkopf  and  Hartel's,  where  they  are  still  to  be 
had.  His  lessons  only  lasted  six  months,  for  he  profited 
by  them  to  a  remarkable  extent,  and  thus  "  acquired,"  as 
he  himself  has  said,  "  independence  in  his  method  of 
writing." 

He  left  in  1832  for  Vienna,  where  he  found  French 
music  and  pots-pourris  the  fashion.  On  his  way  back  he 
stopped  at  Prague  and  managed  to  have  several  of  his 
compositions  played  there,  among  others  a  symphony. 
There  he  wrote  the  poem  and  the  first  number  of  an 
opera,  Die  Hocbzeit,  in  which  the  deplorable  influence  of 
the  bad  French  school  is  felt,  and  which  he  tore  up  the 
following  year  because  the  subject  was  displeasing  to  his 
sister  Rosalie. 

His  career  as  a  musician  really  begins  in  1833.  He 
goes  to  Wiirzburg  to  be  with  his  brother  Albert,  a  dis- 
tinguished singer,and,  whilst  fulfilling  the  duties  of  chorus- 
master  in  the  theatre  of  the  town,  he  composes,  after  one 
of  Gozzi's  fables,  the  libretto  and  music  of  a  romantic 
opera,  Die  Feen,  which  contained  many  good  things,  and 
was  manifestly  inspired  bv  Beethoven  and  Weber.  Frag- 
ments   were    performed   at    the    theatre  of   Wiirzburg, 


pfl  OF    RICHARD    WAGNER  25 

but  it  was_^neyer^staged,.       The   manuscript   afterwards 
became  the   property  of  the    King  of  Bavaria. 

It  was  in  1834  that  Wagner  for  the  first  time  heard 
Mme.  Schroeder-Devrient,  whose  dramatic  talent  ex- 
ercised sucti  powerful  influence  upon  his  genius  in 
making  him  comprehend  what  wonderful  effects  might 
be  produced  by  an  intimate  union  of  poetry  and  music. 
Long  afterwards  in  his  career  he  said  of  her:  "Every 
time   I   compose  a  character,  it  is  she  whom  I  see." 

It  was  also  at  this  period  that  he  began  to  write  his 
opera  Das  Liebesverbot  (also  entitled  La  Novice  de  Pa 
lermo\  which  he  finished  in  1836,  when  he  was  director 
of  a  theatre  in  Magdeburg.  One  single  representation 
of  this  work  (in  which  he  entirely  abandoned  his  first 
models  to  follow  the  reigning  French  and  Italian  schools), 
was  given  at  very  short  notice  the  same  winter  before 
the  company  of  the  theatre  had  been  dismissed-,  aftei 
having  caused  its  author  a  thousand  vexations,  it  was 
never   repeated. 

On  leaving  Magdeburg,  the  artist,  financially  embar- 
rassed, went  to  Berlin,  and  then  to  Konigsberg,  where 
he  passed  a  sterile  year,  and  composed  only  an  over- 
ture, Rule  Britannia.  In  Konigsberg  he  married  Minna 
Planer,  to  whom  he  had  been  engaged  a  year  before  in 
Magdeburg ;  but  he  had  been  forced  to  postpone  his 
marriage  for  want  of  money  to  provide  a  home. 

In  1837  he  obtained  the  post  of  musical  director  in 
the  theatre  at  Riga.  He  there  wrote  many  pieces,  and 
began  an  opera  which  he  abandoned,  because  he  per- 
ceived with  annoyance  that  he  was  on  the  highway  to 
produce   music   ua  la  Adam." 

He  then  felt  the  need  of  applying  himself  to  some  im- 
portant work  in  which  he  could  give  full  play  to  the 
artistic   faculties   which    he   felt  developing  within   him. 


26  THE    MUSIC    DRAMAS 

He  set  to  work  with  ardour,  and  when  he  left  Riga  in 
1839,  the  two  first  acts  of  Rienzi  were  finished.  The 
hope  of  seeing  this  work  represented  on  a  large  stage, 
determined   him  to  go  to   Paris. 

He  embarked  for  London  with  his  wife  and  his  dog, 
a  Great  Dane  named  Robber. 

It  was  during  this  terrible  voyage,  which  lasted  three 
weeks,  during  which  the  ship  sought  refuge  in  one  of 
the  fjords  of  Norway,  that  Wagner  heard  the  legend  of 
The  Flying  Dutchman  from  the  lips  of  the  sailors.  The 
deep  impression  produced  upon  him  by  this  battle  with 
the  wild  elements,  when  he  faced  death  more  than  once, 
ripened  his  genius  and  had  a  strong  influence  upon  him. 

After  a  short  stay  in  London,  he  landed  at  Boulogne, 
where  he  remained  four  weeks.  There  he  made  the 
acquaintance  of  Meyerbeer,  who  listened  with  great 
interest  to  the  two  acts  of  Rienzi  and  gave  him  letters  of 
introduction  to  Leon  Pillet,  director  of  the  Opera, 
Schlesinger,  editor  and  proprietor  of  the  Gazette  Muslcale, 
and  several  other  persons.  The  voung  composer  arrived 
in  Paris  buoyed  with  hopes  which  soon  dissolved  into  thin 
air  :  Meyerbeer,  being  constantly  absent  from  the  capital 
at  this  period,  could  not  render  effective  the  benevolent 
support  which  he  had  promised.  The  Theatre  de  la 
Renaissance,  on  the  point  of  producing  his  opera,  La 
Defense  d*  Aimer,  unluckily  failed,  and  the  director  of  the 
Opera,  to  whom  he  timidly  proposed  his  Rlenzi,  wrapped 
up  a  formal  refusal  with  meaningless  polite  phrases.  On 
the  whole,  performances  on  our  principal  stage  were  not 
so  good  as  he  had  anticipated,  and  the  Italian  singers, 
who  were  so  much  the  fashion  there  at  that  time,  dis- 
gusted  him   with   Italian   music. 

On  the  other  hand,  he  took  an  immense  interest  in 
hearing  Beethoven's  Symphonies  at  the  Concerts  of  the 


OF    RICHARD    WAGNER  27 

Conservatoire,  then  conducted  by  Habeneck  ;  the  Ninth 
especially  excited  his  admiration  to  the  highest  degree; 
he,   in   fact,  preferred  it  to  all  the  others. 

In  the  meantime,  his  pecuniary  resources  were  failing; 
he  had  left  the  Rue  de  la  Tonnellerie  to  establish  him- 
self in  a  newly-furnished  apartment  in  the  Rue  du  Helder: 
it  was  there  that  he  experienced  all  the  agonies  of  poverty. 
Wagner  had  to  accept  an  order  to  write  the  music  for  a 
vaudeville,  La  Descente  de  la  Courtille.  The  prelimi- 
nary sketch  was  pronounced  unplayable  by  the  actors. 
He  then  tried  in  vain  to  secure  an  engagement  in  the 
chorus  of  a  small  boulevard  theatre ;  but  he  was  re- 
fused  on   account  of  his   lack  of  voice. 

He  then  wrote  the  music  to  Heine's  Die  be'ule  Grena- 
dlere,  and  three  melodies  to  the  words  of  Ronsard  and 
Victor  Hugo  ;   for  these  he  obtained  some  little  money. 

At  this  period  he  finished  a  masterly  overture,  Faust, 
which  was  not  played  until  fifteen  years  later,  and  in 
which  the  influence  of  Beethoven  is  again  distinctly 
felt. 

Finding  himself,  by  the  failure  of  all  his  plans,  master 
of  his  own  time,  he  returned  to  Rienzi,  which  was  des- 
tined for  the  theatre  at  Dresden,  where  his  name  was 
not  unknown  and  where  Mme.  Devrient  and  the  cele- 
brated tenor,  Tichatschek,  were  then  singing.  He  ended 
his  work  in  November  and  sent  it  to  Dresden,  where  it 
was  immediately  accepted.  It  was  represented  there 
in  1 84 1. 

It  was  at  this  period,  1840,  that  Meyerbeer,  during  a 
trip  to  Paris,  induced  him  to  enter  into  relations  again 
with  Leon  Pillet,  the  director  of  the  Opera,  to  whom  he 
submitted  the  sketches  of  his  poem,  The  Flying  Dutchman, 
since  called  in  France  Le  vaisseau  fantome,  partly  bor- 
rowed   from   the   legend    heard   on    his   sea-voyage    and 


28  THE    MUSIC    DRAMAS 

partly  from  H.  Heine's  Salon.  The  theme  pleased  Pillet 
so  much  that  he  proposed  to  buy  it  and  let  some  one 
else  set  it  to  music.  Wagner  at  once  positively  refused, 
intending  to  renew  the  subject  at  some  future  time,  when 
Meyerbeer,  who  was  again  absent,  would  be  able  to  lend 
his  aid  ;  and  in  order  to  obtain  the  pecuniary  relief  in 
which  he  stood  so  greatly  in  need,  he  wrote  several  arti- 
cles for  the  Gazette  Musicale,  among  others  Une  visite  a 
Beethoven  and  La  Jin  d'un  musicien  allemand  a  Paris, 
which  were  quite  successful.  To  increase  his  resources, 
he  also  made  transcriptions  for  the  piano  of  La  Favorita, 
U  Elisire  a"  Amove,  La  reine  de  Chypre,  and  Le  Guitta- 
reo,  and  arranged  a  number  of  operas  for  the  piano  and 
for  the  cornet-a-piston. 

The  winter  of  1841  is  passed  in  battling  with  poverty. 
In  the  spring,  learning  that  his  idea  for  The  Flying 
Dutchman  has  been  divulged  to  an  author  who  is  at 
work  upon  it,  he  decides  to  part  with  the  French  rights. 
With  the  modest  sum  obtained  for  it  (500  francs),  he 
retires  to  Meudon,  and,  returning  to  the  subject  of  which 
he  has  been  dispossessed,  he  begins  to  treat  it  in  German 
verse.  It  is  not  without  strong  misgivings  that,  having 
procured  a  piano,  he  asks  himself  if  he  is  still  capable  of 
writing  after  having  been  so  long  banished  from  all 
musical  atmosphere  by  difficulties  of  a  sordid  nature. 
At  length  he  finds  to  his  joy  that  he  can  compose  better 
than  ever,  and  in  seven  weeks  he  finishes  the  three 
acts,  both  poetry  and  music,  of  his  work.  £The  over-  . 
ture  alone  is  retarded  by  fresh  pecuniary  embarrassments^  ' 
During  this  time  he  has  been  negotiating  with  Munich  and 
Leipzig  about  this  score,  which  is  refused  on  the  grounds 
that  it  would  not  please  German  taste.  He  had,  how- 
ever, kept  his  fellow-countrymen  in  mind  while  writing 
it.      But  finally,  thanks  to  Meyerbeer's  intervention,  it  is 


OF    RICHARD    WAGNER  29 

accepted  in  principle  by  the  Royal  Theatre  of  Berlin. 
It  was  not  performed  there  until  January,  1844. 

The  prospect  of  having  his  two  last  works  given  in 
Germany  decides  him  to  leave  Paris,  where  he  has  suf- 
fered so  greatly  and  in  so  many  ways,  but  which,  on 
the  whole,  has  not  been  without  value  to  him,  and  in 
which  city  he  has  formed,  as  he  himself  says,  many 
treasured  and   lasting  friendships. 

He  therefore  leaves  with  his  wife  in  the  spring  of 
1842,  happy  and  moved  even  to  tears  at  returning  to  his 
German  fatherland,  to  which  he  vows  eternal  fidelity. 

Ricnzi  was  mounted  with  great  magnificence  and  per- 
formed at  Dresden  in  October,  1842,  with  the  aid  of 
Mme.  Devrient  and  Tichatschek  ;  it  was  an  enormous 
success.  At  the  close  of  the  first  representation,  which 
lasted  from  six  o'clock  to  midnight,  the  author  proposed 
cuts  to  which  the  artists  were  opposed,  for  they  did  not 
want  to  sacrifice  a  single  note  of  their  roles.  Two 
other  representations  took  place  before  a  crowded  house, 
and  when,  at  the  end  of  the  third,  the  conductor,  Reis- 
siger,  courteously  handed  the  baton  to  the  young  com- 
poser, the  enthusiasm  of  the  public  became  delirious. 

Encouraged  by  this  success,  which  surpassed  their 
hopes,  the  directors  of  the  Dresden  theatre  hastened  to 
mount  The  Flying  Dutchman,  which  was  represented 
in  1843.  Mme.  Schroeder-Devrient  filled  the  role  of 
Senta.  But  the  public,  expecting  an  opera  in  the 
style  of  Rienzi,  was  slightly  disappointed,  or  surprised, 
rather.  The  work  was  none  the  less  appreciated  by 
musicians  of  authority.  Spohr  and  Schumann  praised  it 
highly  ;  it  was  given  with  success  at  Riga  and  Casscl, 
and  the  following  year  MM.  Botticher  and  Tzschiesche 
and  Mile.  Marx  interpreted  it  in  Berlin. 

The  qualities  of  conductor  which   Wagner  exhibited 


3o  THE    MUSIC    DRAMAS 

in  directing  Rienzi,  brought  him  the  post  of  Hof kapell- 
meister in  Dresden  at  the  beginning  of  1843.  ^e  na<^ 
hesitated  to  present  himself  at  the  competition  for  this 
post ;  but  it  would  mean  independence  for  him,  per- 
mitting him  to  devote  himself  to  his  labours  freed  from 
all  material  cares.  He  decided  to  run  the  risk,  and 
triumphed  over  all  his  competitors  by  conducting  his 
venerated  master's  Euryanthe  in  a  masterly  manner. 

He  inaugurated  his  new  duties  bv  conducting  the 
works  of  Berlioz,  who  was  then  making  a  tour  in  Ger- 
many, and  who  has  shown  in  his  M'emoires  his  apprecia- 
tion of  the  zeal  and  devotion  which  Wagner  gave  to 
this  matter.  On  the  other  hand,  the  French  composer 
gives  only  very  faint  praise  to  Rienzi  and  The  Flying 
Dutchman,  which  he  had  the  opportunity  of  hearing. 

During  the  seven  years  in  which  Wagner  filled  this 
important  post  (1843— 1849),  ne  mounted  successively 
Euryanthe,  Der  Freischutz,  Don  Giovanni,  Die  Zduberjlote, 
La  Clemenza  di  Tito,  Fidelio,  La  Vestale,  Midsummer 
Night's  Dream,  Armida,  etc. 

The  presence  of  Spontini,  who  came  to  Dresden  at 
Wagner's  instigation  to  conduct  La  Vestale,  was  fertile 
in  instructive  experiences  for  the  young  composer.  The 
exactions  of  the  old  master  in  the  presence  of  the  or- 
chestra caused  him  much  embarrassment,  but  his  patience 
carried  him  through  triumphantly.  He  never  ceased  to 
show  great  deference  to  the  author  of  La  Vestale,  who 
became  very  fond  of  him,  and,  on  leaving,  amicablv  gave 
him  this  singular  advice  :  "  When  I  heard  your  Rienzi, 
I  said  :  '  This  is  a  man  of  genius ;  but  he  has  alreadv 
done  more  than  he  can  !  '  Listen  to  me,  and  henceforth 
give  up  dramatic  composition!  " 

At  first  Wagner  had  hoped  to  change  many  things 
around   him   and   to  raise  the  artistic  level  of  Dresden  ; 


OF    RICHARD    WAGNER 


31 


but  he  met  with  so  much  opposition  and  prejudice  that 
he  soon  abandoned  his  projects  of  reform.  He,  how- 
ever, kept  to  the  study  of  Beethoven's  Ninth  Symphony 
with  great  tenacity,  and,  having  succeeded  in  communi- 
cating his  enthusiasm  to  his  musicians,  he  gave  a 
marvellous  performance  of  it  which  was  a  veritable  reve- 
lation to  his  dilettante  public.  It  is  said  that  two  of 
his  future  disciples  and  collaborateurs,  Hans  von  Biilow 
and  Hans  Richter,  took  part  in  this  concert. 

In  the  midst  of  his  numerous  occupations  he  found 
time  to  write  a  cantata,/)^  Liebesmabl  der  Apostel,  which 
was  given  in  1843  m  tne  Church  of  Our  Lady,  the  re- 
markable qualities  of  which  passed  entirely  unnoticed. 
His  principal  work  at  this  period  was  the  composition  of 
his  opera,  Tannhduser. 

During  the  last  weeks  of  his  stay  in  France,  the  idea 
had  first  come  to  him  whilst  reading  the  legends  of 
Tannhduser  and  Lohengrin  by  the  old  minnesinger  Wol- 
fram von  Eschenbach,  and  he  was  attracted  by  the 
thought  of  what  might  be  made  of  the  song-contests 
at  the  Wartburg.  From  this  time  forward,  abandon- 
ing the  scarcely-outlined  sketch  of  a  poem  on  Manfred, 
he  broke  away,  once  for  all,  from  historical  subjects, 
which  chained  him  with  a  thousand  fetters,  in  order 
henceforth  to  treat  subjects  of  a  purely  human  interest, 
which  alone  seemed  to  justify  the  simultaneous  use  of 
poetry  and  musical  language. 

In  1844  he  had  been  appointed  head  of  a  committee 
formed  in  Dresden  to  bring  over  the  remains  of  Weber, 
v  ho  died  in  London  in  1826.  For  this  occasion  he 
composed  a  Funeral  March  on  two  motive  of  Euryanthe, 
and  a  chorus  for  male  voices,  which  produced  an  excellent 
effect. 

Under  the  influence  of  these  ceremonies,  in  which  his 


32  THE   MUSIC   DRAMAS 

feelings  were  so  deeply  concerned,  he  completed  the 
music  of  Tannbauser  in  1845  (not  as  li  iS  now  played, 
for  he  afterwards  altered  it  very  materially  :  for  instance, 
more  has  been  made  of  the  scene  of  the  Venusberg  ;  he 
also  extended  the  last  scene  of  the  third  act). 

The  Dresden  theatre  hastened  to  mount  the  work 
with  magnificent  decorations  and  mise  en  scene;  but,  like 
The  Fixing  Dutchman,  it  did  not  appeal  to  the  taste  of 
the  public,  who  had  hoped  to  see  the  composer  return  to 
that  species  of  composition  which  had  brought  him  such 
success  with  Rienzi,  and  the  seventh  performance  was 
reached  only  with  great  difficulty.  The  role  of  Tann- 
bauser was  sung  by  Tichatschek,  and  it  fatigued  him. 
From  a  sense  of  duty  Mme.  Devrient  had  accepted  the 
role  of  Venus,  though  persuaded  that  she  could  make 
nothing  of  it.  The  character  of  Elizabeth  was  given  to 
a  debutante,  'Johanna  JVagner,  the  author's  niece. 

The  failure  of  Tannbauser  was  a  great  blow  to 
Wagner,  who  had  flattered  himself  that  he  would  win 
over  the  public  without  sacrificing  anything  on  his  side. 
He  wrote:  "A  feeling  of  complete  isolation  took  pos- 
session of  me.  It  was  not  my  vanity  ;  I  had  deceived 
myself  with  my  eyes  open,  and  now  I  was  quite  stunned 
by  it.  I  had  only  one  thought :  to  bring  the  public  to 
understand  and  to  share  in  my  views,  and  to  accomplish 
its  artistic  education." 

Musicians  were  no  more  indulgent  to  him  than  the 
public.  Mendelssohn,  Spohr,  and  Schumann  sharply 
criticised  the  work,  whilst  recognising  that  here  and  there 
it  contained  some  good  things.  Schumann  even  went 
so  far  as  to  write  on  this  subject  in  1853  :  "  ^  's  tne 
empty  and  unplcasing  music  of  an  amateur!  "  Spohr,  at 
the  same  period,  acknowledges,  however,  that  "the  opera 
contains   certain   new   and   fine  things,   which   at  first  I 


OF   RICHARD   WAGNER  33 

did  not  like,  and  to  which  I  became  accustomed  on 
repeated  hearings." 

The  following  year,  1846,  was  full  of  many  new 
cares  of  all  kinds  for  Wagner  ;  the  publication  of  his 
operas  Rienzi,  The  Flying  Dutchman,  and  Tannbauser  led 
him  into  disastrous  financial  complications;  then  at  this 
epoch  he  plunged  into  politics  and  made  many  enemies  ; 
the  press  became  more  and  more  severe  on  him  and  in- 
fluenced the  directors  of  the  theatre,  who  refused  to  play 
his  works,  regarding  him  as  eccentric  and  difficult  to  get 
on  with. 

Then,  retiring  for  a  time  from  political  agitation,  he 
took  up  again  with  energy  his  new  work  Lohengrin, 
barely  outlined  in  1845,  the  subject  of  which,  like  that 
of  Tannbauser,  had  been  taken  from  Wolfram  von 
Eschenbach.  He  worked  at  it,  fully  realising  that  he 
was  going  farther  away  than  ever  from  the  prevailing 
taste  of  the  public,  at  that  time  solely  infatuated  with 
Donizetti's  operas.  Moreover,  so  much  of  his  time  was 
taken  up  by  the  Dresden  theatre,  that  the  completion  or 
the  work  was  indefinitely  postponed,  and  the  only  portion 
which  can  be  referred  to  this  period  is  the  finale  of  the 
first  act,  performed  in  September,  1848,  for  the  anniver- 
sary of  the  inauguration  of  the  royal  chapel. 

As  soon  as  the  score  of  Lohengrin  was  finished,  Wagner 
thought  of  writing  a  drama  on  Jesus  von  Nazareth,  but 
he  abandoned  the  idea  (though  he  used  its  mystical  theme 
in  after  years  in  another  form),  and  vacillated  for  the 
last  time  between  an  historical  subject,  Friedricb  Rothbart, 
and  a  purely  mvthical  one,  Siegfried,  the  germs  of  which 
he  found  in  the  old  poem  of  the  Nibelungen  and  in  the 
Scandinavian  Eddas. 

He  chose  the  myth,  and  thenceforth  worked  on  the 
poem  of  Siegfrieds    Tod;  but    his  work   was    suspended 

3 


34  THE   MUSIC    DRAMAS 

during  the  political  troubles  which  then  broke  out  in 
Germany. 

He  elaborated  a  complete  plan  of  reforms  which 
tended  towards  nothing  else  than  an  entire  revolution  of 
musical  affairs  in  Saxony. 

At  this  period  he  became  connected  with  August 
Roeckel  and  with  the  revolutionist,  Bakounine,  who 
rapidly  gained  great  influence  over  him.  Throwing 
himself  with  his  habitual  ardour  into  militant  politics,  at 
a  club  of  which  he  was  a  member  he  made  many  impru- 
dent speeches  which  gave  great  offence  in  high  quarters 
as   coming   from   a   Kapellmeister  of  the   Court  ! 

Justly  fearing  trouble  in  Dresden,  he  went  to  Weimar 
to  join  Liszt,  who  was  then  actively  directing  the  re- 
hearsals of  Tannhauser,  and  with  whom  he  had  close 
relations,  notwithstanding  the  aversion  which  he  had 
vowed  in  his  youth  to  the  virtuosi  in  general,  and  to 
Liszt  in  particular.  But  his  peace  was  immediately  dis- 
turbed by  an  order  for  his  arrest :  he  was  marked  out  as 
a  dangerous  agitator  !  Liszt  quickly  obtained  a  passport 
for  him  under  a  fictitious  name,  and  he  had  to  leave  his 
country  in  great  haste.  His  exile,  which  thus  began, 
was  to  last   for  twelve  years. 

First  he  directed  his  steps  to  Paris,  where  he  hoped  to 
get  his  works  represented.  But  what  theatre  would  be 
disposed  to  mount  a  tragedy  at  such  a  time  ?  He  also 
tried  to  publish  a  series  of  articles  upon  artistic  and  revolu- 
tionary subjects,  in  which  he  would  elaborate  the  thoughts 
which  were  working  in  his  brain.  But  his  proposition 
was  very  coldly  received  by  the  editor  of  the  Journal  des 
D'ebats,  to  whom  he  applied.  Seeing  that  there  was  noth- 
ing for  him  in  Paris,  he  left  in  June,  1849,  for  Zurich, 
where  his  wife  joined  him,  and  where  he  found  many  of 
his  friends,  political  refugees  like  himself. 


OF    RICHARD   WAGNER  35 

The  life  of  an  exile  was  not  hard  for  him  ;  he  became 
a  citizen  of  Zurich,  and  soon  met  with  enlightened  and 
sympathetic  people  who  surrounded  him  with  an  atmos- 
phere of  intelligence  and  devotion.  This  was  one  of  the 
most  profitable  and  productive  periods  of  his  life.  In 
this  calm  retreat,  where  he  entirely  recovered  himself,  his 
genius,  soaring  with  each  new  production,  at  length  found' 
its  definite  form  and  attained  its  highest  expression. 
From  his  first  work  conceived  in  exile,  to  the  last,  Tra- 
tan,  he  marches  with  a  giant's  stride.  He  has,  at  last, 
found  his  true  path,  and  henceforth  has  nothing  to  do 
but  continue  in   it. 

Feeling  the  need  of  making  his  political  and  socialist 
theories  known  and  leaving  musical  composition  alone 
for  a  time,  he  successively  published  several  articles  : 
Die  Kunst  und  die  Revolution  and  Das  Kunstwerk  der 
Zukwift.  At  last,  in  1850,  in  the  Neue  Zeitschrift  fur 
Musik  of  Leipzig,  there  appeared  an  article  entitled  Das 
"Judenthum  in  der  Musik,  signed  Freigedank,  but  in  this 
every  one  rightly  recognized  Wagner's  style  and  ideas. 
This  article  had  a  varied  reception,  and  was  violently 
condemned  by  his  enemies,  who  accused  him  of  black 
ingratitude  to  Meyerbeer,  his  protector  in  France  as  well 
as  Germany,  who  was  especially  singled  out  by  him  in 
this  virulent  essay,  which  quickly  agitated  the  musical 
world. 

These  labours  not  sufficing  for  the  Master's  activity, 
he,  at  the  same  time,  composed  a  drama  entitled  Hit-land 
der  Schmiedt,  intended  for  the  Paris  Opera,  notwithstand- 
ing the  discourao-ino;  receptions  which  he  had  there  met 
with  on  several  occasions.  At  Liszt's  advice  he  sent  it 
in  early  in  1850,  and  the  fresh  refusal  which  followed 
produced   a  nervous  illness. 

During  the    same   year   Wagner    finding    among    his 


36  THE    MUSIC    DRAMAS 

sketches  Lohengrin,  which  he  had  almost  forgotten,  he 
submitted  it  to  Liszt  who  was  then  in  Weimar.  Liszt 
hastened  to  mount  it  at  the  festival  of  Goethe's  anniver- 
sary. The  work  made  a  great  impression,  although 
after  the  first  representation,  the  author,  much  against  his 
will,  had  to  authorize  several  cuts. 

The  critics,  who  had  been  invited  from  every  quarter, 
were  generally  favourable  to  it,  and  it  is  from  this  epoch 
that  Wagner's  fame  in  Germany  really  dates.  Lohengrin 
was  played  with  success  in  many  towns  during  the  fol- 
lowing years. 

In  a  letter  to  his  friend  Roeckel,  about  185 1,  Wagner 
says  that  his  fame  is  increasing  in  a  surprising  manner, 
but  that  he  does  not  owe  it  to  a  comprehension  of  the 
true  spirit  of  his  works,  for  the  artists,  like  the  public, 
only  see  his  effeminate  side,  appreciating  neither  the 
majesty  nor  the  mighty  passion  of  the  dramas.  Two 
years  later,  writing  to  the  same  friend,  he  rejoices  "  at 
having  no  longer  to  work  solely  for  money.  Whatever 
I  undertake  here  (Zurich),  I  shall  never  make  pay  (a  life 
which  I  should  never  be  able  to  lead  elsewhere  without 
resources),  for  to  follow  art  for  money  is  exactly  what 
would  alienate  me  forever  from  art,  for  that  is,  more- 
over, the  very  thing  that  provokes  so  many  errors  on 
the  subject  of  the  essence  of  artistic  work." 

At  Zurich  he  conducted  several  symphony  concerts  in 
the  theatre  of  the  citv  assisted  by  his  two  young  pupils, 
Karl  Ritter  and  Hans  von  Biilow,  and  applied  himself  to 
his  work  on  the  Nibelungen.  At  first  he  intended  to 
treat  only  of  the  Death  of  Siegfried  (which  became  at  a 
later  period  Die  Gotterddmmerung),  then  afterwards,  for  the 
sake  of  making  the  drama  clear,  he  was  led  to  write 
successively  Siegfried,  then  Die  IValkiire,  and  finally  Das 
Rheingold,  the  Prologue  to  these  three  parts.      In    1852, 


OF   RICHARD    WAGNER  37 

his  poems  being  finished,  he  gave  a  first  reading  of  them 
all  (except  the  Prologue),  on  three  evenings  just  before 
Christmas  at  the  house  of  his  friend  Wille,  at  Mariafeld, 
near  Zurich.  Frau  Wille  relates  in  this  connection  that 
on  the  last  of  these  evenings,  she,  being  called  to  the  side 
of  one  of  her  children  who  was  ill,  had  to  leave  the  room  \ 
for  a  moment,  and  that  Wagner,  offended  at  this  breach 
of  etiquette,  bestowed  the  name  of  Fricka  1  upon  her 
when  she  returned.  Although  essentially  kind-hearted, 
his  nervous  nature  often  made  him  irritable! 

When  over-excited,  he  would  preferably  use  the 
French   language. 

He  commenced  the  music  to  his  Tetralogy  in  1853, 
beginning  with  the  Prologue. 

DO  O 

He  himself  relates  that  during  a  sleepless  night  at 
Spezia,  while  on  a  trip  to  Italy,  he  formed  a  clear  plan 
of  the  music  for  Das  Rheingold,  and,  not  wishing  to  write 
it  on  Italian  soil,  he  hastily  returned  to  Zurich,  where  he 
set  to  work.  In  May,  1854,  Das  Rheingold  was  finished. 
He  wrote  the  music  of  Die  IValkiire  in  the  winter  of 
1 854-1 855,  and  the  first  two  acts  of  Siegfried  in  1857. 
Then  followed  a  long  interruption.  He  set  aside  the 
Tetralogy  for  Tristan,  which,  at  this  period,  was  more  in 
unison  with  his  state  of  mind. 

While  applying  himself  to  this  colossal  work,  Wagner 
had  engaged  in  many  other  occupations.  He  had 
mounted  Tannhduser  in  Zurich,  and,  in  the  course  of  a 
long  visit  which  Liszt  paid  him,  he  organized  a  concert 
at  Saint-Gall,  in  which  he  conducted  the  Symphony  Eroica 
and  Liszt  directed  his  symphonic  poems  of  Orpheus  and 
Les  Preludes. 

At   this   period   he  had  an  offer  to  give  some  concerts 

1  In  the  Tetralogy  Fricka  is  the  goddess  of  marriage,  with  a 
disagrteable  character. 


v 


38  THE    MUSIC    DRAMAS 

in  America,  but  he  declared  that  he  was  "  not  disposed  to 
go  about  as  a  concert-pedlar,  even  for  a  fabulous  sum." 

However,  in  January,  1855,  he  consented,  "more  out 
of  curiosity  and  to  see  what  people  there  are  doing,"  to 
direct  eight  concerts  of  the  "  Philharmonic  Society  "  in 
London.  He  then  formed  very  cordial  relations  with 
Berlioz,  who  was  at  the  same  time  conducting  the 
orchestral  concerts  of  the  "  New  Philharmonic  Society." 
A  correspondence  was  established  between  them  when 
Wagner  returned  to  Switzerland. 

Prince  Albert  greatlv  appreciated  the  music  of  the 
German  master,  although  the  latter  was  very  discreet  in 
introducing  it  into  his  programmes.  After  hearing  the 
overture  to  Tannbauser,  which  excited  general  enthu- 
siasm, the  Royal  family  summoned  the  author  to  their 
box  to  receive  their  congratulations.  The  English  press, 
however,  was  hard  upon  him.  Among  other  things  it  is 
said  they  reproached  him  with  conducting  Beethoven's 
Svmphonies  from  memory.  Wagner,  therefore,  to  please 
his  audience,  appeared  at  the  next  concert  with  a  score; 
the  public  was  perfectly  satisfied,  and  claimed  that  the 
execution  was  much  better  ;  but  what  was  the  indigna- 
tion of  every  one,  when,  later,  it  was  seen  that  the  score 
was  that  of  //  Barbiere  di  Siviglia,  and  that  it  was  upside 
down  on  the  desk  ! 

Wagner  wrote  to  his  friend  Rceckel :  u  If  anything 
could  increase  my  scorn  of  the  world,  it  would  be  my 
expcd':ion  to  London.  Let  me  only  brieflv  say  that  I 
am  paving  dearly  for  the  foolishness  of  which  I  was 
guilty  in  accepting  this  engagement,  attracted  as  I  was 
by  a  silly  curiosity,  in  spite  of  mv  former  experiences." 

During  his  stay  in  London,  the  Master  gave  Klind- 
worth  the  task  of  arranging  his  scores  for  the  piano. 

It   was  after  his  return   from  England  that,  although 


OF    RICHARD    WAGNER 


39 


suffering  from  frequent  attacks  of  facial  erysipelas,  he 
finished  the  instrumentation  of  Die  Walkure ;  and  then, 
frightened  at  the  amount  of  work  which  remained  to 
complete  Der  Ring  des  Nibclungen,  which  he  could  sec  no 
possibility  of  getting  represented  on  any  stage,  and  want- 
ing to  write  a  work  which  would  have  some  chance  of 
being  easily  performed,  he  diligently  set  to  work  upon 
his  poem  of  Tristan. 

The  little  select  circle  in  Zurich,  which  the  Master 
bned  to  frequent,  included  Wille,  Gottfried  Semper,  and 
the  poet  Herwegh,  a  fervent  disciple  and  worshipper  of 
Schopenhauer.  He  drew  Wagner's  attention  to  the 
ivorks  of  this  philosopher,  which  made  a  great  impression 
upon  him.  It  was  under  the  influence  of  these  ideas,  as 
well  as  of  the  state  of  his  own   mind  at  that  time,  that  y 

Wagner  wrote  his  new  drama,  which  he  finished  in  1859.         ftp1 

It  was  first  proposed  to  produce  it  at  Karlsruhe,  where  \  U 
the  role  of  Tristan  should  be  given  to  Schnorr,  a  young 
tenor  of  the  greatest  talent,  who  had  sworn  an  undying 
devotion  to  Wagner's  music.  But  the  Master  only 
knew  the  singer  by  hearsay,  and  hesitated  to  accept  as  an 
interpreter  a  person  afflicted  with  excessive  corpulence, 
fearing  that  he  would  make  a  ridiculous  effect  upon  the 
stage.  He  relates  in  his  Souvenirs  that,  being  in  Karls- 
ruhe in  1852  when  Schnorr  was  singing  Lohengrin  there, 
and  never  having  seen  him,  he  went  to  hear  him  incog- 
nito, and  was  so  much  impressed  by  the  unusual  intelli- 
gence displayed  by  the  artist  from  the  very  first  notes  of 
his  role,  and  being  affected  very  much  as  he  had  been 
in  his  youth  by  Mme.  Schroeder-Devrient,  he  immedi- 
ately wrote  and  invited  Schnorr  to  visit  him.  Schnorr, 
accompanied  by  his  wife,  then  spent  several  weeks  at 
Biberich  with  the  Master  and  Hans  von  Biilow,  who  had 
joined   them.      Schnorr  worked  on   the  Ring,  and   even 


4o  THE    MUSIC    DRAMAS 

more  on  Tristan,  which  afterwards  became  one  of  his 
finest  parts. 

Wagner's  hopes  of  having  Tristan  represented  at 
Karlsruhe  were  speedily  shattered,  notwithstanding  the 
sympathetic  interest  displayed  by  the  Grand  Duke  of 
Baden.  He  neither  obtained  the  permission  to  reside 
definitely  in  the  Baden  dominions,  nor  to  return  to  Ger- 
many as  he  so  much  desired. 

Turning  his  eyes  again  towards  Paris,  he  arrived  there 
in  September,  1859,  witn  tne  h°Pe  °f  gamnlg  a  hearing 
for  his  work ;  but  he  soon  had  to  give  up  his  idea  of  con- 
fiding it  to  German  interpreters.  He  also  counted  on 
French  versions  of  Tannhauser  and  Lohengrin.  M.  Car- 
valho,  the  director  of  the.  Theatre  Lyrique,  had  some 
thought  of  mounting  Tannhauser.  He  even  called  one 
evening  in  the  Rue  Matignon  to  see  the  composer,  who 
played  the  work  to  him,  but  could  not  manage  to  make 
him  understand  its  interest. 

The  Master,  who,  notwithstanding  his  increasing  suc- 
cesses in  Germany,  was  hardly  better  known  in  Paris 
than  when  he  arrived  there  the  first  time,  then  determined, 
as  a  means  of  presenting  himself  to  the  Parisian  public 
and  of  introducing  his  music,  to  give  some  concerts, 
which  he  immediately  organized  in  the  Salle  Ventadour. 
The  rehearsals  were  held  in  the  Salle  Beethoven,  Passage 
de  l'Opera.  Hans  von  Biilow  conducted  the  choruses, 
which  were  chiefly  composed  of  German  amateurs. 
The  programme  included  the  overture  to  The  Flying 
Dutchman,  several  excerpts  from  Tannhauser  and  Lohen- 
grin, and  the  prelude  to  Tristan. 

Wagner  attained  his  end  and  attracted  the  attention 
of  the  dilettante  world,  but  the  financial  results  of  the 
first  three  concerts  were  small  ;  therefore,  after  finding 
a  deficit  of  6000  francs,  he  did   not    accept    the    offer 


OF    RICHARD    WAGNER  41 

which  was  made  to  him  by  the  Marechal  Magnan  on  the 
part  of  the  Tuileries  for  a  fourth  concert  in  the  Salic  de 
l'Opera.  He  gave  two  concerts  in  Brussels,  which 
were  not   more   fortunate   in   a   pecuniary   sense. 

Very  naturally  he  was  beginning  to  feel  much  dis- 
couraged, when  an  intelligent  patronage  brought  him 
unexpected  support.  Mme.  de  Metternich  and  several 
members  of  the  German  colony  in  Paris  so  strongly  in- 
terested Napoleon  III.  in  his  favour  that  that  sovereign, 
usually  indifferent  to  musical  matters,  gave  orders  to 
mount  Tannhauser  at  the  Opera.  At  first  the  Master 
was  not  enchanted  at  this  news,  for  he  had  reason  to 
fear  the  public  (greatly  prejudiced  by  a  hostile  press),  be- 
fore whom  he  was  going  to  produce  his  work  ;  however, 
the  management  showed  itself  so  generous  on  the  ques- 
tion of  mise  en  scene,  so  eager  to  grant  the  author  all  the 
rehearsals  he  desired  and  all  the  artists  he  wanted  (the 
German  tenor,  Niemann,  who  had  a  good  French  ac- 
cent, was  expressly  engaged  for  the  role  of  Tannhauser), 
that  Wagner  took  heart,  and  showed  himself  quite  will- 
ing to  make  any  revisions  that  were  demanded  and  which 
he  thought  reasonable ;  in  particular,  this  is  how  the 
scene  of  the  Venusberg  came  to  be  extended. 

A  few  weeks  before  the  first  performance,  he  had 
thought  it  incumbent  on  him  to  explain  his  ideas  on  the 
musical  drama,  ideas  so  new  to  the  dilettante  world  of 
Paris,  and  which  he  had  already  developed  several  years 
before  in  his  article  entitled  "  Opera  et  Drame."  He 
therefore  published  a  long,  explicit,  and  interesting 
"  Lettre  sur  la  Musique"  which  may  be  considered  as 
the  Wagnerian   profession  of  faith.  1     But  his  enemies, 

1  This  letter,  addressed  to  M.  Frederic  Villot,  and  followed  by 
four  poimes  a"  opSra :  Le  vaisseau  fantdme,  Tannhauser,  Lohengrin^ 
and  Tristan  et  Iseult,  is  published  by  A.  Durand  et  fils,  4  Place  dc 
la  Madeleine. 


42  THE    MUSIC   DRAMAS 

who  were  exceedingly  bitter  against  him  and  incapable 
of  comprehending  the  artistic  sincerity  and  exalted  views 
of  this  mind  so  devoted  to  the  true  and  beautiful,  only 
saw  in  it  the  presumption  of  an  unlimited  conceit. 

Is  it  necessary  to  recall  here  the  incidents  which  are 
still  fresh  in  every  memory  :  the  exactions  of  the  man- 
ager, who,  to  please  his  subscribers,  wanted  a  ballet  in 
the  very  middle  of  the  action ;  the  author's  natural  re- 
sistance, and  the  cabal  led  by  the  members  of  an  influ- 
ential club  and  a  few  journalists,  who  worked  so  well 
and  successfully  that,  despite  the  very  evident  sympathy 
of  the  Emperor  and  his  Court,  despite  the  marked  inter- 
est of  the  majority  of  the  public,  the  work  failed  at  its 
third  representation  ? 

How  many  are  there  among  the  survivors  of  that  un- 
intelligent coterie,  who,  while  still  failing  to  understand 
the  genius  of  the  Master,  now  go  into  raptures  when 
they  hear  the  duet  of  Tristan  or  the  prelude  to  Parsifal'' 
But  at  that  time  it  was  not  fashionable  to  appreciate 
Wagner  ;  and  the  great  artist,  refusing  with  dignity  to 
impose  his  work  any  longer  on  a  public  incapable  of 
being  interested  by  it,  withdrew  his  score  and  returned 
to  Germany,  which  had,  meanwhile,  been  opened  to  him 
by  the  successful  efforts  of  his  devoted  protectors. 

How  can  we  be  surprised  if  Wagner  subsequently 
harboured  some  bitterness  against  a  public  whose  favour 
he  had  sought  so  often,  who  had  at  first  received  him 
with  ignorant  indifference,  very  galling  to  a  genius  con- 
scious of  his  own  worth,  and  who  had  finally  treated 
him  with  an  inhospitable  harshness,  very  nearlv  approach- 
ing brutality  ?  Let  us  sav,  in  passing,  that  Wagner,  not- 
withstanding the  popular  legend  which  has  formed  and 
which  has  so  long  kept  us  from  knowing  and  admiring 
his  work  in  our  country,  was  never  guilty  of  the  mali- 


OF    RICHARD    WAGNER  43 

cious  sallies  against  France  which  have  been  attributed 
to  him.  Those  who  wish  to  be  convinced  have  only  to 
read  his  letter  to  M.  Monod  ;  let  them  also  examine  his 
skit  called  Une  Capitulation,  for  which  he  has  been  so 
much  condemned  ;  they  may  find  it  a  dull  and  dubious 
kind  of  wit,  but  they  will  see  that  it  was  only  a  joke,  a 
jest  in  bad  taste,  directed  as  much  against  his  own 
countrymen  as  against  ours.  Moreover,  he  did  not 
write  it  for  publication,  and  consequently  had  no  inten- 
tion of  offending  us.  It  was  not  printed  until  many 
years  after  the  war,  and  then  in   German. 

In  order  to  understand  it,  we  must  aiso  take  into 
account  the  character  of  the  Master,  singularly  fiery 
and  carried  as  readily  to  an  excess  of  impetuous  gaiety 
when  his  good-humoured  wit  spared  no  one,  as  to 
melancholy  moods  in  which  he  despaired  of  everything 
and  was  profoundly  unhappy.  In  this  connection  let 
us  cite  M.  Monod's  interesting  analysis:  "He  exer- 
cises an  irresistible  ascendency  over  all  who  approach 
him,  not  only  by  his  musical  genius,  the  originality 
of  his  mind,  and  his  varied  knowledge,  but  above 
all  by  his  strength  of  temperament  and  will,  which 
shines  through  his  entire  personality.  In  his  presence 
there  is  a  feeling  as  though  some  force  of  nature  were  at 
work  and  were  breaking  loose  with  almost  irresponsible 
violence.  When  we  know  him  intimately  we  find  him 
sometimes,  in  unrestrained  gaiety,  giving  vent  to  a  torrent 
of  jokes  and  laughter,  —  sometimes  furious,  respecting 
in  his  attacks  neither  titles,  nor  powers,  nor  friend- 
ships, always  obeying  the  irresistible  impulse  of  the 
moment,  and  we  end  by  not  reproaching  him  too  severely 
for  the  lack  of  taste,  tact,  and  delicacy  of  which  he  has 
been  guilty ;  we  are  tempted,  if  Jews,  to  pardon  his 
brochure   on    Judaisme  dans  la  musique ;    if  French,  his 


44  THE    MUSIC   DRAMAS 

buffoonery  on  La  capitulation  de  Paris ;  if  German,  all 
the  insults  with  which  he  has  overwhelmed  Germany  ; 
just  as  we  pardon  Voltaire,  La  Pucelle  and  certain  letters 
to  Frederick  II.;  Shakespeare,  certain  jests  and  sonnets; 
Goethe,  certain  pieces  of  ridicule ;  and  Victor  Hugo, 
certain  discourses.  We  must  take  him  as  he  is,  full  of 
defects,  perhaps  because  he  is  full  of  genius,  but  incon- 
testably  a  remarkable  man,  one  of  the  greatest  and  most 
extraordinary  our  century  has  produced." 

Mme.  Judith  Gautier,  who  was  a  constant  guest  at 
Triebschen,1  and  had  vowed  an  undying  admiration  for 
the  Master,  also  says  :  "  We  must  recognise  that  the 
character  of  Richard  Wagner  contains  violent  moods  and 
many  asperities,  which  often  cause  him  to  be  misunder- 
stood, but  only  by  those  who  judge  by  appearances. 
Nervous  and  impressionable  to  excess,  his  feelings  always 
run  to  extremes ;  a  small  trouble  with  him  almost 
becomes  despair,  the  least  irritation  has  the  appearance 
of  fury.  This  marvellous  organisation,  so  exquisitely 
sensitive,  is  in  a  constant  state  of  tremour;  we  even 
wonder  how  he  can  restrain  himself  at  all.  One  day  of 
trouble  ages  him  ten  years ;  but  when  joy  returns  the 
next  day,  he  is  younger  than  ever.  He  is  extremely 
prodigal  of  his  strength.  Always  sincere,  entirelv  devot- 
ing himself  to  so  many  things,  and,  moreover,  of  a  very 
versatile  mind,  his  opinions  and  ideas,  always  positive  at 
first,  are  by  no  means  irrevocable ;  no  one  is  ever  more 
willing  than  he  to  acknowledge  an  error;  but  the  first 
heat  must  be  allowed  to  pass.  By  the  freedom  and 
vehemence  of  his  words,  it  often  happens  that  he  unin- 
tentionally wounds  his  best  friends ;  always  in  extremes, 
he  goes  beyond   all  bounds,  and   is   unconscious  of  the 

1  Wagner's  house  on  the  Lake  of  the  Quatre  Cantons,  facing 
Lucerne. 


OF   RICHARD    WAGNER  45 

pain  he  causes.  Many  people,  wounded  in  their  vanity, 
go  away  without  saying  anything  of  the  hurt  which 
rankles,  and  they  thus  lose  a  precious  friendship;  whilst, 
if  they  had  cried  out  that  they  had  been  hurt,  they  would 
have  seen  the  Master  so  full  of  sincere  regret,  and  he 
would  have  tried  with  such  earnest  efforts  to  console 
them,  that  their  love  for  him  would   have  increased." 

To  complete  these  two  portraits,  let  us  add  one 
drawn  in  a  recent  publication  by  M.  Emile  Ollivier,  the 
brother-in-law  of  Richard  Wagner :  "  The  double  as- 
pect of  this  powerful  personality  was  shown  in  his  face; 
the  upper  part  beautiful  with  a  vast  ideality  and  lighted 
with  eyes  which  were  reflective,  deep,  severe,  gentle,  or 
malicious  according  to  circumstances ;  the  lower  part 
wry  and  sarcastic ;  a  mouth  cold,  calculating,  and 
pursed-up,  was  cut  slantingly  into  the  face  beneath  an 
imperious  nose,  above  a  chin  which  projected  like  the 
menace  of  a  conquering  will." 

Wagner  in  1 861  entered  his  own  country  with  a 
constantly  increasing  desire  to  have  Tristan  represented  ; 
but,  notwithstanding  the  renown  which  he  had  acquired 
during  these  last  years,  augmented  by  his  much-talked-of 
defeat  in  Paris,  which  gained  for  him  a  newly-awakened 
sympathy  among  his  compatriots,  no  manager  cared  to 
mount  his  work.  The  Grand  Duke  of  Baden,  after 
having  shown  himself  well-disposed  toward  the  work, 
lost  interest  in  it,  and  at  Vienna,  where  rehearsals  were 
in  progress,  it  was  abandoned  at  the  fifty-seventh  one, 
on  the  pretext  that  the  strength  of  the  tenor,  Ander, 
had   given  out. 

The  years  which  followed  were  among  the  most 
troublous  ones  of  the  Master's  life.  Everything  con- 
spired to  distress  him  :  the  great  disappointment  caused 


46  THE    MUSIC    DRAMAS 

by  the  ill-luck  of  Tristan,  and  the  isolation  of  his  life, 
for  his  hearth  was  now  deserted  and  his  household 
broken  up ;  his  wife,  a  good  and  devoted  creature,  but 
of  the  earth  earthy,  was  not  able  to  comprehend  his 
genius,  and  thus  there  were  constant  disagreements, 
which  finally  ended  in  a  separation. 

Several  years  later,  malevolent  reports  about  Wagner 
were  circulated  on  this  subject:  he  was  accused  of  leav- 
ing his  wife  without  resources,  but  a  few  days  before 
her  death  she  herself  wrote  to  contradict  these  calumnies, 
attesting,  on  the  contrary,  that  her  husband  had  always 
furnished  her  with  quite  sufficient  remittances. 

Fresh  pecuniary  embarrassments  pursued  him,  for  his 
operas  brought  him  very  little  money,  in  accordance 
with  the  usual  arrangements  in  Germany  between  thea- 
tres and  authors.  At  last,  however,  he  had  the  satisfac- 
tion of  seeing  Lohengrin  represented  in  Vienna  in  the 
month  of  May.  It  was  then  that  he  began  to  write 
the  poem  and  to  work  on  the  score  of  Die  Meistersinger, 
the  first  sketch  of  which  he  had  committed  to  paper  in 
1845,  immediately  after  the  completion  of  Tannbauser, 
to  which  he  wished  to  make  a  comic  pendant. 

The  poem  of  Die  Meistersinger  was  finished  in  Paris 
during  a  short  stay  that  Wagner  made  there  in  1862, 
and  was  immediately  published  by  the  house  of  Schott 
in  Mayence,  which  had  already  negotiated  with  the 
Master  for  Der  Ring  des  Nibelungen.  But  the  music,  with 
which  he  began  to  occupy  himself  from  this  moment, 
was   not   finished    until  1867. 

The  whole  year  1863  was  employed  by  Wagner  in 
travelling  through  Germany  and  Russia  and  giving  con- 
certs which  somewhat  repaired  the  state  of  his  finances. 
The  Grand  Duchess  Helene,  who  was  an  intelligent 
musician  and  a  passionate  admirer  of  his  works,  greatly 
contributed  to  his  success  in  Russia. 


OF    RICHARD    WAGNER  47 

On  his  programmes  figured  Beethoven's  Symphonies 
and  some  fragments  of  the  Meistersinger  and  the  Ring. 
He  also  performed  in  Vienna,  with  very  great  success, 
the  overture  to  Freiscbutz  as  it  was  originally  written 
by  Weber,  and  as  it  is  never  given.  On  his  return 
from  his  visit  to  Russia,  Wagner  established  himself  in 
Penzig,  in  the  environs  of  Vienna,  where  he  lived 
quietly  with  his  two  servants  and  his  faithful  dog. 
(Wagner  always  had  a  passionate  love  for  animals.  He 
says  :  "  I  am  more  and  more  deeply  moved  at  our  rela- 
tions with  animals,  which  are  so  horribly  maltreated  and 
tortured  by  us  ;  I  am  happy  above  all  to  be  able  to-day 
to  indulge  without  shame  the  strong  compassion  which 
I  have  at  all  times  felt  for  them,  and  to  be  no  longer 
forced  to  have  recourse  to  sophisms  to  try  to  palliate  the 
wickedness  of  man  on  this  question.")  Indispensable 
measures  of  economy  compelled  him  to  abandon  this 
abode  ;  he  went  to  ask  shelter  of  his  friends  in  Zurich, 
with  the  intention  of  finishing  his  Meistersinger  there. 

As  for  the  Tetralogv,  at  this  time  he  had  totally  aban- 
doned the  hope  of  ever  seeing  it  represented  (the  ideal  the- 
atre, which  his  dreams  had  pictured  long  ago  and  which 
he  believed  would  never  exist,  was  needed  for  that),  and 
had  published  the  poem  in  1853  as  a  literary  work,  with- 
out taking  any  further  trouble  to  complete  the  music. 

It  was  in  1864,  that,  having  drunk  deeply  of  every 
kind  of  bitterness,  having  at  last  arrived  at  the  lowest 
depths  of  discouragement  and  feeling  he  could  no  longer 
struggle  against  it,  there  came  into  his  life  that  unheard- 
of  and  unhoped-for  patronage,  which,  changing  the  cur- 
rent of  his  destiny  as  with  the  touch  of  a  wand,  permitted 
him  to  take  a  new  flight,  henceforth  freed  from  all  the 
miserable  fetters  in  which  his  genius  had  so  long  been 
struggling. 


48  THE    MUSIC    DRAMAS 

The  young  Louis  II.  of  Bavaria,  who  had  become 
king  at  the  age  of  nineteen  on  the  death  of  his  uncle 
Maximilian  II.,  an  ardent  and  passionate  admirer  of  the 
Master,  whose  works  he  had  studied  to  the  exclusion  of 
all  others,  fifteen  days  after  his  accession  hastened  to 
call  the  great  artist  to  his  side,  and,  bv  removing  all 
difficulties  of  a  sordid  and  material  nature  from  his  path, 
enabled  him  to  finish  his  abandoned  Njbelungen  and  to 
have  his  other  works  magnificently  represented. 

He  relates  this  event  on  the  same  dav,  May  4,  1864, 
to  his  friend,  Mme.  Wille  at  Zurich  in  these  words : 
"  You  know  that  the  young  King  of  Bavaria  has  sent  for 
me ;  I  have  been  presented  to  him  to-day.  Unfortu- 
nately he  is  so  handsome,  so  intelligent,  so  enthusiastic, 
and  so  great,  that  I  fear  lest  in  this  vulgar  world  his  life 
should  fade  away  like  a  fugitive  and  heavenly  dream. 
He  loves  me  with  the  ardour  and  fervour  of  first  love ; 
he  knows  and  understands  all  that  concerns  me.  He 
wishes  to'  have  me  live  near  him  always,  that  I  may 
work  and  rest  and  have  my  works  represented ;  he 
wishes  to  give  me  everything  I  need  ;  he  wants  me  to 
finish  the  Nibelungen,  and  to  have  it  represented  exactly  as 
I  desire.  He  comprehends  it  all  seriously  and  literally, 
just  as  you  and  I  do  when  we  are  talking  together.  All 
pecuniary  burdens  are  lifted  from  me ;  I  shall  have 
everything  I  need,  on  the  sole  condition  that  I  stay  by 
his  side.  What  do  you  say  to  that  ?  What  have  vou  to 
say  about  it?  Is  it  not  unheard-of?  Can  it  be  any- 
thing but   a  dream  ?  " 

Wagner's  first  care,  in  gratitude  to  the  king,  was  to 
become  a  naturalized  Bavarian  and  to  compose  a  military 
march,  Huldigungsmarsck,  in  honour  of  his  sovereign ; 
then,  at  the  request  of  his  royal  friend,  he  elaborated  a 
plan  for  a  national  school  of  music  to  be  established  in 


OF    RICHARD    WAGNER  49 

Munich;  but  this  project  was  never  put  into  execution, 
on  account  of  the  ill-will  of  the  musicians  of  that  city. 
In  the  year  1864  he  had  The  Flying  Dutch/nan  per- 
formed in  the  capital  of  Bavaria,  and  conducted  con- 
certs composed  entirely  of  his  own  works  ;  but  the 
Bavarians,  already  discontented  and  uneasy  at  the  extra- 
ordinary favour  shown  to  the  composer,  whose  influence 
over  the  king  they  feared,  would  not  go  to  hear  them, 
and  the  room  remained  almost  emptv.  However,  his 
royal  patron,  not  troubling  himself  about  these  hostile 
manifestations,  now  actively  turned  his  thoughts  to  the 
erection  of  the  theatre  dreamed  of  by  Wagner,  studying 
the  plans  with  Gottfried  Semper,  the  Master's  friend. 
Then,  by  paying  a  forfeit  to  the  manager  of  the  theatre 
in  Dresden,  he  made  Schnorr  and  his  wife  come  to  sing 
Tristan.  He  took  advantage  of  the  presence  of  this  in- 
comparable interpreter  to  have  a  splendid  and  unique 
performance  of   Tannhauser. 

The  rehearsals  for  Tristan  were  directed  with  the 
greatest  authoritv  by  Hans  von  Biilow,  the  Master's 
disciple  and  friend,  who,  by  Wagner's  influence,  was  at 
this  time  appointed  pianist  to  the  king  of  Bavaria.  The 
performance,  which  took  place  in  1865,  was  superb. 
Wagner  now  knew  the  deep  and  intense  satisfaction  of 
hearing  his  work  given  according  to  his  dreams  and  de- 
sires. Schnorr  interpreted  the  role  of  Tristan  with  such 
intelligence  and  intensity  of  emotion  that  Wagner,  stirred 
to  the  depths  of  his  soul,  declared,  after  the  fourth  repre- 
sentation, that  he  never  wished  another,  and  refused  to  let 
his  friend  exhaust  himself  with  such  superhuman  efforts. 
Schnorr,  who,  during  the  third  act  on  the  last  evening, 
had  contracted  rheumatism,  caused  by  the  draughts  of 
the  stage,  died  fifteen  days  afterwards  in  Dresden,  and 
thus  deprived  the  Master's  works  of  their  best  interpreter. 

4 


5o  THE    MUSIC    DRAMAS 

Meanwhile,  the  cabal  organized  against  the  king's 
protege  became  very  threatening,  and  the  sovereign  was 
forced,  on  November  30th,  1865,  to  send  the  great 
artist  away  for  a  time  to  calm  people's  minds.  How- 
ever, it  seems  certain  that  he  had  no  influence  over  the 
king  with  regard  to  politics  ;  whenever  he  broached  that 
subject  (he  himself  has  told  us),  the  king  stared  into 
vacancv  and  began  to  whistle.  What  the  people  had 
more  reason  to  fear  was  the  excessive  expenditure  into 
which  he  led   the   sovereign. 

Wagner,  whose  nervous  system  was  very  much  run 
down  and  needed  rest,  took  a  short  trip  to  the  south  of 
France  and  Switzerland,  and  settled  at  Triebschen,  near 
Lucerne.  For  all  that,  the  King  did  not  abandon  his 
protege,  and  came  to  see  him  in  the  strictest  incognito. 

The  Master  took  advantage  of  this  period  of  rest  to 
write  articles  in  the  paper  of  his  old  friend,  August 
Roeckel:  he  published  a  brochure  on  Deutsche  Kunst  und 
Deutsche  Politik,  and  finished  his  score  of  Die  Meister- 
singer.  It  was  at  this  time  that  Hans  von  Biilow  intro- 
duced to  the  Master  a  young  musician  of  great  ability, 
Hans  Richter,  who  acted  as  his  faithful  and  devoted  sec- 
retary, and  afterwards  became  one  of  his  most  wonderful 
aids  at  the  performances  in  Munich  and  Bavreuth. 

The  first  representation  of  Die  Meistersinger  took  place 
in  Munich  in  June,  1868.  Wagner  had  confided  the 
rehearsals  of  his  work  to  his  friend  Biilow,  who  acquitted 
himself  of  his  task  with  the  most  intelligent  devotion. 
Nevertheless,  the  Master  was  able  to  be  present  at  the 
last  rehearsals  and  at  the  six  performances,  which  gained 
an  enthusiastic  success. 

He  then  applied  himself  diligently  to  the  composition 
of  the  music  of  the  Ring,  which  he  had  abandoned  in  1857 
in  the  middle  of  the  second  act  of  Siegfried.     He  finished 


OF    RICHARD    WAGNER 


5i 


Siegfried  in  1 869,  and  the  first  act  of  Gotterddmmerung  in 
1870  ;  but  the  whole  work  was  not  finished  until  1874. 
There  was  thus  a  lapse  of  twenty-two  years  between 
the  first  draft  and  the  completion  of  the  7'etralogy.  It 
is  true  that  Tristan  and  Die  Meistersinger  come  in  the 
interval. 

In  1870,  Wagner,  having  been  freed  five  years  pre- 
viously by  the  death  of  his  first  wife,  married  Mme.  Hans 
von  Biilow,  the  daughter  of  his  friend,  Liszt. 

The  following  year  she  presented  him  with  a  son, 
whom  he  called  Siegfried,  the  name  of  his  favourite  hero. 
On  the  occasion  of  the  christening;  of  the  child,  who 
had  Mme.  Judith  Gautier  for  his  godmother,  a  delightful 
family  fete  was  held  at  Triebschen  :  in  the  garden  of  the 
villa  the  Master  had  hidden  a  little  select  orchestra  con- 
ducted by  Hans  Richter,  which,  at  the  moment  that 
Mme.  Wagner  appeared  on  the  porch,  began  to  play  a 
delicious  piece  composed  by  the  happy  father  on  an  old 
German  cradle-song  and  four  Leit-motive,  which  are 
woven  together  in  the  third  act  of  Siegfried ;  Peace,  Sleep, 
Siegfried  Treasure  of  the  JVorld,  and  The  Decision  to  Love. 
This  piece  was  published  in  1877  under  the  name  of  the 
Siegfried-  Idy  11. 

King  Louis  II.,  impatient  to  hear  Rheingold,  de- 
manded a  performance  of  it  in  Munich,  notwithstanding 
the  difficulties  of  mise  en  scene  and  representation  which 
arose.  The  result  was  disappointing,  and  the  work,  in- 
comprehensible to  a  public  unprepared  for  it,  was  coldlv 
received.  The  following  year  Die  11  'alkure  was  much 
more  successful ;  but  these  performances  only  served  to 
increase  the  desire  of  both  the  Master  and  his  royal  patron 
to  build  a  special  theatre  in  which  the  entire  Tetralogy 
could  be  given. 

After  having  published  his  two  studies,  Ueber  das  Dirt' 


\ 


52  THE    MUSIC    DRAMAS 

giren  and  Beethoven,  Wagner  travelled  through  the  coun- 
try looking  for  the  most  suitable  site  for  his  theatre. 

The  Master's  life  during  the  years  which  followed,  so 
intimately  bound  up  with  the  history  of  the  Theatre  of 
Bayreuth,  will  be  traced  at  the  end  of  this  chapter.  Let 
us  say,  however,  that  in  1875  Wagner  had  the  satisfac- 
tion of  hearing  Tannh'auser  and  Lohengrin  performed  in 
Vienna  in'  their  entirety.  He  himself  directed  the  re- 
hearsals. Tristan  was  also  given  with  equal  success  in 
Berlin  in  1876.  In  1877  the  series  of  concerts  which 
he  consented  to  direct  in  London  alternately  with  his 
collaborateur,  Hans  Richter,  resulted  in  many  marks  of 
sympathy  from  the  royal  family,  and  an  enthusiastic  re- 
ception by  the  London  public,  who  also  highly  appre- 
ciated his  talented  lieutenant.  He  had  his  Kaisermarsch 
performed  with  success,  and  some  fragments  of  all  his 
works.  But  the  pecuniary  result  was  not  very  brilliant, 
nor  did  it  correspond  to  the  efforts  made. 

In  1877  Wagner  had  written  the  poem  of  Parsifal, 
borrowed  from  the  legend  of  the  Grail  as  sung  by  the 
old  trouveres,  the  first  idea  of  which  had  come  into  his 
mind  in  1852  in  Zurich  when  he  was  projecting  his 
Jesus  von  Nazareth.  He  took  this  new  poem  to  London, 
and  read  it  to  a  small  circle  of  friends  in  the  house  of 
Mr.  Edward  Dannreuther,  his  friend  and  faithful  histo- 
riographer (from  whose  remarkable  biographical  study 
many  points  have  been  taken  for  this  brief  sketch  of  the 
Master's  life).  He  composed  the  music  for  the  first  two 
acts  of  Parsifal  in  the  course  of  the  year  1878  •,  the  Pre- 
lude was  performed  at  an  entertainment  of  intimate 
friends  in  Bavreuth  at  Christmas;  and  he  finished  the 
third  act  in  1879. 

Considerations  of  health  (he  suffered  cruelly  from  a 
painful  erysipelas],   forced    him  to   pass   his  winters  in 


OF    RICHARD    WAGNER 


53 


Italy,  and  at  Palermo,  in   1882,  he  finished  the  orchestra- 
tion of  this  work,  which  he  felt  would  he  his  last. 

The   Festival-Theatre,  which    had    been   closed    since 
1876,  was  opened   so  that  Parsifal  might  be  represented. 


aLo=c^El -_f— ■  - 


VENDRAMIN-CALERG1    PALACE,    VENICE,   WHERE   WAGNER    DIED 

The  sixteen  performances  which  were  given  went  mar- 
vellously and  had  the  greatest  success.  On  the  last 
evening  the  Master  gave  himself  the  pleasure  of  taking 
the  baton  from  the  hands  of  the  distinguished  director, 
Hermann  Levi,  and  conducted  the  work  himself. 


54  THE    MUSIC    DRAMAS 

A  new  series  of  performances  took  place  in  the  follow- 
ing year  ;  they  greatly  fatigued  the  Master,  who  in  the 
course  of  the  rehearsals  on  one  occasion  had  a  serious 
attack  of  strangulation.  An  afFection  of  the  heart,  which 
the  doctor  concealed  from  him,  was  slowly  undermining 
him.  He  went  to  Venice  with  his  wife  and  family  early 
in  the  winter  of  1 882-1 883  and  established  himself  in 
the  Vendramin-Calergi  Palace,  one  of  the  most  splendid 
Venetian  residences  on  the  Grand  Canal. 

It  was  there  that  a  fatal  attack  suddenly  carried  him 
off  on  February  13,  1883,  at  the  moment  when,  leaving 
the  piano,  where  he  had  just  been  playing  and  singing 
the  first  scene  of  Rheingold,  he  was  about  to  take  his  daily 
outing  in  his  gondola. 

The  body  was  borne  with  great  pomp  to  Bayreuth, 
where  his  friends  and  admirers  buried  him  in  a  solemn 
and  impressive  manner.  He  was  accompanied  to  his 
last  resting-place  by  the  solemn  and  majestic  notes  of 
Siegfried's  Funeral  March. 

Now  he  rests  under  a  simple  stone  without  anv  in- 
scription, guarded  by  his  faithful  dog,  Russ,  buried  under 
a  neighbouring  hillock,  and  among  the  vet  VT  shadows  of  his 
villa,  Wahnfried,  not  far  from  that  Theaf  e  which  seems 
to  be  at  once  the  symbol  and  the  fruit  of  his  aspiration, 
that  Theatre  which  was  the  work  of  his  whole  life,  and 
over  which  the  pilgrim  who  comes  to  Bayreuth  feels  the 
spirit  of  his  colossal  genius  still  brooding 

HISTORY    OF  THE   THEATRE 

The  idea  of  building  a  model  theatre,  specially  in- 
tended for  the  performance  of  his  great  dramas  and  ex- 
pressly constructed  with  this  end  in  view,  had  been 
working  in  Wagner's  mind  long  before  he  was  enabled 
to  put  it  into  execution. 


OF    RICHARD    WAGNER  55 

As  early  as  1836  in  a  Communication  a  mes  a?nis,  we 
find  Wagner  declaring  that  henceforth  he  will  write  no 
more  pieces  de  repertoire,  and  that  he  has  a  great  desire 
to  see  his  works  represented  in  "  one  fixed  place  and 
under   special   conditions." 

In  1853,  aftel"  the  success  of  his  concerts  in  Zurich, 
he  had  already  conceived  the  idea  of  establishing  a  theatre 
in  Switzerland,  of  temporary  construction  but  appropriate 
to  all  his  needs,  where  he  could  have  all  of  his  works, 
including  the  Tetralogy  of  the  Ring,  represented  for  a 
year,  as  we  find  in  a  letter  dated  Zurich,  June  8,  1853, 
and  addressed  to  his  friend,  Roeckel,  a  political  prisoner 
at  Waldheim,  who  was  then  an  exile  like  himself. 

Later  in  1862,  in  the  preface  to  Der  Ring  des  Nibe- 
lungen,  still  more  clearly  he  expresses  the  wish  to  con- 
struct a  new  theatre  for  holding  theatrical  festivals,  and 
there  he  announces  the  idea  that  private  co-operation 
would  be  needed,  and,  above  all,  the  distinguished  patron- 
age of  a  sovereign  :  a  curious  presentiment,  for  two  years 
aftet wards,  in  1864,  the  accession  of  King  Louis  II.  to 
the  throne  of  Bavaria,  at  the  age  of  nineteen,  crowned 
his  wishes.  From  1865  to  1870  Tristan,  Die  Meistcr- 
singer,  Das  Rheingold,  and  Die  JFalkiire  were  performed  in 
Munich.  Then  the  construction  of  a  Festival-Theatre 
was  decided  on  in  principle ;  the  King  wanted  it  in 
Munich  ;   Wagner  did  not. 

However,  in  1867,  his  very  talented  friend,  the  architect, 
Gottfried  Semper,  had  been  commissioned  by  King  Loihn 
II.  to  make  drawings  carrying  out  Wagner's  ideas;  but 
Semper  only  understood  magnificent  proportions  and  noble 
and  imposing  forms;  he  therefore  produced  a  plan  of  such 
magnitude  that  the  king  himself  was  alarmed  at  the  exor- 
bitant expenditure  into  which  he  would  be  drawn,  —  an 
expenditure  far  above  the  resources  of  the  royal  treasury. 


56  THE    MUSIC    DRAMAS 

Wagner  then  had  to  recognize  that,  notwithstanding 
all  his  prestige-,  the  king's  support  was  still  insufficient, 
and,  to  gain  his  end,  he  made  up  his  mind  to  address 
himself  to  the  entire  German  nation,  by  playing  upon  its 
artistic  pride. 

It  was  in  the  month  of  May,  1 87 1,  that,  after  having 
travelled  through  and  examined  many  places,  he  visited 
for  the  first  time  the  pretty  little  town  of  Bayreuth, 
which  captivated  him  at  first  sight.  He  then  took 
counsel  with  good  friends  and  practical  men,  particu- 
larly MM.  Feustel  and  Gross,  who  obtained  from  the 
municipality  a  free  grant  of  the  land  necessary  for  the  erec- 
tion of  the  Theatre  and  his  house,1  and  it  was  on  the 
9th  of  November  of  the  same  year  that  in  Mr.  Feustel's 
house,  situated  near  the  station  between  the  Hirschen- 
strasse  and  the  A-littelstrasse,  a  house  henceforth  historic, 
it  was  decided  that  the  Festival-Theatre  should  be  built 
in    Bayreuth,  and   nowhere  else. 

The  architect  Semper  was  again  commissioned  to 
prepare  definite  plans.  Nothing  but  the  money  was 
wanting,  and  the   estimated  cost  was  1,125,000  francs. 

But  Wagner  was  not  a  man  to  be  discouraged  by  such 
a  small  thing.  At  that  time,  through  all  artistic  Ger- 
many, nothing  was  talked  of  but  his  writings  and  mani- 
festos; his  concerts  attracted  crowded  audiences,  and  the 
performances  of  his  last  works  had  obtained  the  most  bril- 
liant success.  Wagnerian  societies  were  formed;  he  pro- 
fited from  this  effervescence,  and,  at  the  advice,  it  is  said, 
of  one  of  his  most  enthusiastic  admirers,  the  pianist  Tau- 
sig,  he  issued  1,000  shares  at  1,125  francs  each,  by  which 

1  The  town  has  had  no  cause  to  repent  of  this  intelligent  and 
artistic  bounty  ;  it  reaps  its  reward  from  the  visitors  who  are  at- 
tracted by  the  Festivals.  They  have  caused  a  veritable  resurrection 
for  it. 


OF    RICHARD    WAGNER  57 

means  the  original  subscriber  acquired  the  right  of  attend- 
ing the  three  complete  series  of  the  Tetralogy  of  four 
evenings  each.  The  shares  might  be  divided  into  three, 
each  third  admitting  the  holder  to  one  series. 

The  council  of  administration  had  for  its  president 
Friedrich  Feustel,  the  rich  banker  of  Southern  Ger- 
many, and  was  composed  of  Adolphe  Gross;  Theodor 
Muncker,  of  Bayreuth  ;  Emil  Heckel,  of  Mannheim  ; 
and   Friedrich  Schoen,  of  Worms. 

One  of  these,  Herr  Heckel,  had  founded  in  Mannheim 
the  first  Wagnerian  association,  and  had  gained  the  con- 
viction that  many  people,  finding  it  impossible  to  spend 
1,125  f''ancs5  would,  nevertheless,  be  willing  to  come  to 
the  aid  of  the  work  according  to  their  means.  There- 
fore the  council  of  administration,  becoming  the  com- 
mittee of  patronage,  encouraged  and  instigated  the  for- 
mation of  Wagnerian  societies,  not  only  in  Germany, 
but  throughout  the  world,  in  France,  Russia,  Holland, 
Belgium,  Sweden,  England,  Italy,  Egypt,  and  the  United 
States,  whose  mission  was  to  collect  subscriptions,  no 
matter  how  small  they  might  be,  for  the  triple  represen- 
tation of  Der  Ring  des  Nibelungen :  the  one  end  in  view 
was  the  threefold   performance  of  the  Tetralogy. 

Hardly  had  one-third  of  the  total  sum  necessary  been 
collected,  when  they  proceeded  to  the  laying  of  the 
foundation  stone  of  the  Festival-Theatre,  which  was 
performed  with  great  solemnity  by  Wagner  himself. 
This  took  place  May  22,  1872  (on  the  fifty-ninth 
anniversary  of  Wagner's  birth). 

On  this  occasion  a  concert  was  given  in  the  fine  hall 
of  the  old  Margraves  of  Bayreuth ;  the  Kaisermarscb 
was  played  and  Beethoven's  Ninth  Symphony,  with 
some  additions,  which  were  perhaps  not  quite  respectful ; 
but  this  is  a  detail. 


5 8  THE    MUSIC    DRAMAS 

More  than  four  hundred  German  artists,  singers  as 
well  as  instrumentalists,  gathered  at  this  imposing  cere- 
mony, at  the  end  of  which  Wagner  addressed  a  veritable 
proclamation  to  this  little  world  of  artists. 

The  work  was  immediately  begun  undei  the  direction 
of  the  architects  Runkwitz  and  Briickwald,  but  money 
was  lacking  and  subscriptions  ceased  to  arrive  ;  without 
a  moment's  hesitation,  Wagner  travelled  through  Ger- 
many giving  concerts  in  the  large  cities,  which  brought 
him  about  two  hundred  and  fifty  thousand  francs,  a  con- 
cert in  Pesth  with  Liszt,  and  several  in  Vienna  ;  and, 
furthermore,  he  accepted  the  order  to  compose  a  Festival- 
March  for  the  opening  of  the  Universal  Exposition  in 
Philadelphia  in  1876,  which  paid  him  twenty-five  thou- 
sand francs  ;  all  this  went  to  the  Bavreuth  fund,  but  it 
would  have  still  been  insufficient  without  fresh  generos- 
ity on  the  part  of  Louis  II.,  who  advanced  the  sum  that 
was  wanting,  reserving  the  right  to  reimburse  himself 
when  the  shares  were   finally   sold. 

It  is  thus  only  after  forty  years  of  struggles  and  in- 
cessant efForts  that  Wagner  saw  the  realization  of  the 
colossal  project  which  had  been  germinating  in  his  mind 
since  1836,  and  perhaps  before.  This  is  a  fine  lesson 
of  perseverance  and  a  good  subject  for  meditation  for 
those  who  are  too  easily  discouraged. 

The  first  rehearsals  lasted  two  full  months,  Julv  and 
August,  1875,  and  were  renewed  in  1876,  from  the  3rd 
of  June  to  the  6th  of  July  ;  then  only  it  was  that  the 
success  of  the  enterprise  might  be  definitely  regarded  as 
certain,  and  the  dates  of  the  general  rehearsals  and  the 
performances  were  fixed  ;  then  also  for  the  first  time 
was  seen  the  comforting  spectacle  of  convinced  artists, 
abandoning  their  lucrative  employment,  or  sacrificing 
their  vacation  to  enroll  themselves   under  the  banner  of 


OF    RICHARD    WAGNER  59 

the  New  Art,  and  thus  setting  the  example  of  that 
spirit  of  abnegation  and  that  sacrifice  of  all  personal 
pretension  which  have  remained,  and  should  remain, 
characteristic  of  the  artist  at   Bayreuth. 

The  general  rehearsals  were  to  begin  on  the  6th  of 
August.  On  the  5th  the  King  of  Bavaria,  that  almost 
miraculous  patron,  had  arrived,  being  anxious  to  be 
present  at  every  one  of  them.  He  would  have  liked  to  be 
the  only  person  present ;  but  after  the  beginning  of  the 
first  rehearsal  he  had  to  give  up  this  selfish  wish  (the 
emptiness  of  the  theatre  interfered  with  the  tone  effects) ; 
and,  with  the  best  grace,  he  consented  that  the  doors 
should  be  opened  to  everybody.  A  general  scramble 
followed  which  necessitated  the  intervention  of  the  police. 
This  incident  suggested  to  the  management  the  idea  of 
charging  admission  for  the  remaining  rehearsals,  which 
resulted  in  the  unexpected  receipt  of  about  24,000 
francs. 

The  three  representations  of  the  Tetralogy  took  place, 
as  had  been  announced:  the  first  from  the  13th  to  the 
1 6th  of  August ;  the  second  from  the  20th  to  the  23rd  ; 
the  third  from  the  27th  to  the  30th  ;  each  of  which  began 
on  a  Sunday  and  ended  on  a  Wednesday,  and  was 
separated  from  the  following  by  three  days  of  rest,  a 
tradition  which  has  been  preserved  at  Bayreuth  ever 
since. 

But  if  the  artistic  success  was  great,  it  was  otherwise 
with  the  financial  result,  for  the  total  deficit  was  187,500 
francs  (150,000  marks),  the  expenses  having  been  much 
greater  than  had  been  anticipated.  This  deficit  could 
not  in  any  wav  affect  the  subscribers,  who  had  filled 
their  engagements,  and  it  fell  entirely  upon  Wagner. 
This  fresh  disaster  had  to  be  repaired.  Wagner  left 
for  London  in  the  spring  of  1877,  to  give  a   series   of 


bo  THE    MUSIC    DRAMAS 

concerts,  which  was  always  a  trouble  to  him  ;  moreover, 
he  allowed  an  impresario,  whose  name  has  escaped  me, 
to  take  possession  of  the  scenery  of  the  Tetralogy  and 
hawk  it  about  from  city  to  city;  this  scenery  was  very 
beautiful,  and  it  must  have  been  heart-breaking  for  him 
to  abandon  it  in  this  way.1  All  this  did  not  suffice; 
the  generosity  of  the  young  King  of  Bavaria  and  several 
of  the  original  founders  had  to  intervene,  and  at  length 
Wagner  found  himself  free  from  his  embarrassments, 
with  the  satisfaction,  thanks  to  his  tenacious  persever- 
ance, of  having  loyally  accomplished,  without  losing 
heart,  the  dream  of  his  life,  the  creation  of  the  Festival- 
Theatre,  and  the  complete  representation  of  his  Tetralogy. 

But  for  six  years,  until  1882,  it  was  impossible  to 
open  the  Theatre  for  want  of  money,  despite  the  excellent 
management  of  the  council  of  administration. 

During  his  life  Wagner  saw  his  Theatre  open  only 
three  times:  in  1876  for  the  inauguration,  then  in  1882, 
and  in  1883. 

Since  his  death,  performances  have  taken  place  there 
eight  times  :  in  1884,  1886,  1888,  1889,  1891,  1892, 
1894,  and  1 896,2  under  the  active  and  indefatigable 
administration  of  Herr  von  Gross,  Wagner's  testamentary 
executor  and  the  tutor  of  his  son.  Frau  Wagner  has,  so 
far,  never  deducted  the  slightest  amount  from  the  receipts, 
for  she  regards  this  Theatre  not  as  a  money-making  en- 
terprise, but  as  a  work  exclusively  for  art.  When  a  sur- 
plus is  left  oyer  from  one  year  it  is  reserved  for  the 
expenses  of  the  next  season  and  to  cover  improvements 
and  the  renewing  of  material,  as  well  as  the  maintenance 
of  the  Theatre. 

1  He  had  intended  only  to  lend  them.  But  they  were  totally 
It,  and  when  the  Tetralogy  was  revived  in  1896,  it  was  necessary 
to  make  new  scenery,  as  well  as  costumes  and  accessories. 

2  Again  in  1897. 


OF    RICHARD    WAGNER 


61 


62 


THE    MUSIC    DRAMAS 


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OF    RICHARD    WAGNER  63 

The  hall  of  this  model  theatre  contains  1,344  seats, 
arranged  in  a  fan-shaped  amphitheatre  in  a  rectangular 
building.  Each  stall  consists  of  a  large  folding  cane- 
seat,  without  support  for  the  arms.  Because  of  their 
fan-shaped  arrangement,  the  number  of  seats  is  not  the 
same  on  each  row ;  the  first  contains  only  thirty-two, 
and  the  thirtieth  has  fifty-two;  the  chairs  are  placed 
alternately  in  each  row,  so  that  every  one  is  interfered 
with  as  little  as  possible  by  those  in  front,  and  a  good 
view  may  be  had  from  every  point.  However,  it  is  cer- 
tain that  the  best  places,  for  seeing  as  well  as  hearing, 
are  in  the  centre  of  the  4th,  5th,  6th,  7th,  and  8th 
rows. 

Behind  this  amphitheatre,  and  consequently  at  the 
very  back  of  the  hall,  there  is  a  row  of  nine  boxes, 
known  under  the  general  name  of  Royal  Boxes  •,  these 
seats  are  reserved  for  Royalties  and  for  Frau  Wagner's 
invited  guests.'  Although  I  believe  that  the  public  may 
sometimes  get  them  at  a  price,  yet  officially  they  are 
not  at  the  public  disposal,  which  is  not  a  matter  for 
regret,  for  they  are  so  far  away  that  you  are  better  off 
elsewhere. 

Finally,  above  the  Royal  Boxes  there  is  another  large 
gallery  containing  two  hundred  seats,  for  which  the 
personnel  of  the  theatre  have  orders.  There  you  can 
hear  marvellously  well,  but  you  have  a  bad  view  and 
it  is  verv  warm.  Altogether  the  hall  contains  about 
1,500  spectators. 

There  is  no  ticket-office  ;  the  entrances  and  exits  are 
ten  side  doors,  five  on  the  right  and  five  on  the  left, 
opening  directly  from  the  outside,  and  each  giving 
access  to  a  certain  number  of  rows. 

The  lighting  consists  of  a  double  row  of  incandescent 
electric  lamps  ;   the  lower  row,  midway  up  the  columns 


64 


THE    MUSIC    DRAMAS 


which  surround  the  hall,  is  entirely  extinguished  one 
minute  before  the  beginning  of  each  act;  the  other, 
quite  close  to  the  roof,  is  simply  turned  down ;  there  is 
then  almost  total  darkness. 


THE    HAI.I.,   THE    ORCHESTRA,    AXD   THE   STAGE 


The  ventilation  is  perfect ;  it  is  never  too  warm,  and 
yet  a  draught  is  never  felt. 

The  orchestra,  which  is  made  invisible  by  means  of 
a  double  screen,  which  partlv  covers  it,  is  arranged  upon 
steps,  which  are  a  continuation  of  those  of  the  specta- 
tors, and  descend  a  long  way  under  the  stage   as   into  a 


OF    RICHARD    WAGNER  65 

kind  of  cave,  which  has  received  the  name  of  the 
"  mysterious  space,"  or  the  "  mystic  abyss."  There 
the  instruments  are  grouped  by  families,  exactly  as  at 
large  svmphony  concerts,  except  that  things  are  reversed, 
the  conductor  and  violins  being  above,  and  the  noisy 
instruments  below  at  the  back ;  moreover,  the  first 
violins  are  to  the  right,  and  the  second  to  the  left;  it  is 
simply  an  ordinary  orchestra  reversed. 

The  space  reserved  for  the  stage  and  the  artists' 
rooms  is  a  little  larger  than  the  hall ;  the  curtain  divides 
the  building  almost  into  two  equal  parts  with  regard  to 
its  length.  The  stage  is  very  deep,  perhaps  unneces- 
sarily so,  for  the  whole  of  it  is  never  used,  and  the  back 
serves  as  a  kind  of  store-room  for  properties.  There 
is  nothing  unique  about  the  interior  arrangements  of 
the  Theatre ;  it  is  almost  the  same  as  what  you  find  in 
all  well-equipped  theatres;  the  height  of  the  roof  and 
the  depth  under  the  stage  are  sufficient  to  allow  of  an 
entire  scene  being  raised  or  lowered,  and  it  may  also  be 
made  to  disappear  on  either  side.  The  artists'  dressing- 
rooms  are  spacious,  but  extremely  simple. 

A  little  room  serves  as  a  foyer  for  the  instrumentalists 
to  tune  their  instruments  in,  as  this  is  not  allowed  in 
the  orchestra,  where  s:lence  is  enforced. 

There  is  no  foyer  for  the  public;  the  neighbouring 
country  takes  its  place  when  it  is  fine,  as  it  generally  is 
in  July  and  August ;  in  case  of  bad  weather,  people  take 
refuge  in  one  of  the  cafe-restaurants  which  have  been 
established  in  the  vicinity  since  1876,  and  still  exist. 
On  the  same  floor  with  the  Roval  Boxes  in  the  little 
annex  built  in  1882,  there  are  three  fine  rooms,  one 
of  which  is  furnished  as  a  dining-room,  with  a  buffet, 
which  serves  as  a  foyer  for  privileged  guests ;  these 
rooms  are  also  used  for  partial  rehearsals,  but  the  public 

5 


66  THE    MUSIC    DRAMAS 

is  not  admitted.  Finally,  above,  on  the  gallery  floor, 
in  a  long  room  in  the  form  of  a  lobby,  the  innumerable 
wreaths  sent  from  all  parts  of  the  world  on  the  occasion 
of  Wagner's  funeral  are  piously  preserved  on  the  walls ; 
there  also  may  be  seen,  under  a  protecting  glass,  the 
slate  on  which  he  was  accustomed  to  write  the  hours 
for  the  next  rehearsal,  and  which  still  bears  his  last 
order.  In  the  adjoining  room  the  already  voluminous 
archives  are  kept. 

The  exterior  of  the  edifice  is  not  at  all  remarkable. 
It  is  a  large  building  of  red  brick,  with  projecting  beams, 
and  a  base  of  free-stone,  with  very  little  of  the  artistic  in 
its  appearance ;  its  best  point  is  the  little  court  in  the 
form  of  a  loggia,  added  afterwards,  with  a  balcony,  con- 
taining the  reception-rooms  ;  but  it  is  entirely  without 
architectural  pretension;  it  was  planned  solely  with  the 
view  to  its  practical  use  and  its  interior  arrangement,  and 
this  end  is  well  attained. 


OF   RICHARD    WAGNER 


67 


68  THE    MUSIC    DRAMAS 


CHAPTER   Til 

ANALYSIS    OF    THE    POEMS1 

"  Perfect  art,  art  which  pretends  to  re- 
veal the  entire  man,  always  demands 
these  three  modes  of  expression  : 
gesture,  music,  poetry."  —  Richard 
Wagner. 

WE  are  no  longer  —  and,  thank  Heaven,  we  have 
not  been  for  a  long  time  —  in  the  period  when 
Wagner  was  debated  and  stood  in  need  of  champions ; 
if  a  few  rare  detractors  (sour  or  paradoxical  spirits)  still 
exist,  they  are  now  a  quantit'e  n'egligeable,  and  need  not 
trouble  us  at  all.  Therefore  it  seems  to  me  absolutely 
out  of  place  (and  1  am  anxious  to  say  this  at  the  outset  of 
this  study  of  Wagner's  style)  to  lavish  upon  him  praises 
which  he  does  not  need,  or  to  refute  the  criticisms  which 
he  has  had  to  endure,  but  which  nobody  now  ventures  to 
utter.  It  is  not,  therefore,  from  lukewarmness,  as  I  ex- 
plain here  once  for  all,  that  I  abstain  from  eulogies  which 
can  never  equal  my  admiration,  but  from  a  sentiment  of 
profound  respect,  like  that  which  keeps  people  from  ap- 
plauding Parsifal.  Before  this  colossal  genius  and  his 
gigantic  work  we  must  bow  with  uncovered  heads,  but 
remain  mute,  since  silence  is  in  some  cases  the  highest 
and    most    eloquent    form    of   veneration.      If   Wagner 

1  Those  who  wish  thoroughly  to  study  Wagner's  powerful  dra- 
matic art  cannot  consult  works  more  seriously  written  and  sincere 
than  those  of  Ernst,  Kufferath,  and    Houston  Stewart  Chamberlain. 


OF   RICHARD   WAGNER  69 

were  still  alive,  I  think  that  no  one  would  venture  to  ask 
to  be  presented  to  him  to  compliment  him  on  his  talents. 
We  look  at  the  sun  and  watch  it  in  its  course,  but  we 
never  think  of  congratulating  it  upon  its  power,  nor  of 
thinking  that  its  glory  would  in  any  way  be  augmented 
by  the  addition  of  our  mite  of  personal  appreciation. 
This  is  why  I  shall  systematically  abstain  from  all  ex- 
pressions of  admiration,  confining  myself,  in  this  respect, 
to  silent  contemplation,  which  seems  to  me  the  only  re- 
spectful attitude. 

At  present,  then,  everybody  admires  Wagner,  but  in 
different  ways  and  in  various  degrees,  according  to  the 
extent  of  each  individual's  intellectual  culture,  his  pre- 
vious studies,  and  his  special  initiation.  It  is  these  de- 
grees and  shades  of  individual  admiration  that  I  should 
first  like  to  define  and  clearly  distinguish. 

First,  there  is  the  admirer  of  Wagner  exclusively,  for 
whom  no  one  existed  before  him  and  no  one  can  come 
after  him.  This  extravagance,  honourable  as  it  may  be, 
seems  to  me  exaggerated  and  excessive,  and,  I  would  even 
say,  somewhat  wanting  in  respect  to  the  Master  of  Bay- 
reuth,  who  had  his  own  passionate  enthusiasms  which  he 
did  not  conceal ;  it  seems  to  me  that  one  may,  and  should, 
admit  at  least  those  for  whom  he  himself  professed  un- 
bounded admiration  :  Sophocles,  i^schylus,  Shakespeare, 
Goethe,  Bach,  Beethoven,  and  Weber.  Now,  it  is 
difficult  to  admit  Bach  without  giving  some  attention  to 
certain  of  his  predecessors,  if  it  were  only  Palestrina, 
Monteverde,  Heinrich  Schiitz,  and  his  contemporary 
Handel ;  we  can  scarcely  separate  Beethoven  from  Mo- 
zart and  Haydn,  from  whom  he  is  derived  ;  it  is  impos- 
sible to  recognize  Weber's  worth  whilst  scorning  the 
works  of  Mendelssohn,  Schubert,  and  Schumann,  whose 


70  THE    MUSIC  DRAMAS 

scores   still  adorn  the  splendid   library  of  Wahnfried,  as 
they  enriched  the  mind  of  its  illustrious  founder. 

Wagner's  sympathies  for  Bellini  and  other  Italian 
masters  are  not  less  certain ;  he  acknowledges  them,  and 
we  can  find  indisputable  traces  of  them  in  the  melodic 
structure  of  his  work. 

Now,  all  these  masters,  and  manv  others,  long  be- 
fore Wagner's  advent  raised  the  question  regarding 
his  musical  progenitors,  were  of  themselves  powerful 
geniuses,  and  it  is  a  very  false  idea  to  believe  that  you 
elevate  him  in  abasing  those  whose  works  prepared  his 
triumphal  way  by  providing  him  with  the  necessary  ele- 
ments. Mont  Blanc  would  not  appear  higher  if  you 
levelled  the  neighbouring  mountains  ;  on  the  contrary,  it 
is  bv  ascending  their  peaks  that  its  full  majesty  is  best 
revealed.  The  fanatical,  exclusive  Wagnerian  reminds 
me  of  an  Alpine-climber  who  would  deny  the  existence 
of  Buet  or  the  Jungfrau,  believing,  in  all  good  faith,  that 
by  so  doing  he  will  increase  the  unassailable  prestige  of 
the  highest  peak  in  Europe. 

Twill  go  still  farther:  I  believe  that  in  order  to  be 
justified  in  boasting  that  we  really  and  thoroughly  under- 
stand Wagner,  we  must  be  convinced  that  we  under- 
stand (I  say  understand  in  the  sense  of  appreciating —  I  do 
not  say  admire)  everything  which  worthilv  preceded  him 
in  the  evolution  of  the  art.  And  he  who  pretends  to 
understand  only  Wagner,  who  impertinently  rejects  the 
works  of  our  great  contemporaries  as  unworthy  of  his 
attention,  thinking  that  by  so  doing  he  confers  upon 
himself  a  mark  of  high  musical  intelligence,  proves  only 
one  thing,  —  that  he  understands  nothing  whatever. 

1  hen  there  is  the  rational  admirer,  he  whose  admira- 
tion is  based  on  the  study  and  analysis  of  the  classics  by 
whose   immemorial   efforts  has  been  progressively  raised 


OF  RICHARD    WAGNER  71 

the  edifice  of  German  Art,  which  was  already  superb 
when  Wagner  (a  classic  himself,  since  he  combines  all 
styles  in  his  prodigious  personality)  arose  to  bring  it  its 
great  and  glorious  crown. 

This  is  the  thorough  and  erudite  admirer;  he  appre- 
ciates the  purely  musical  beauties  of  J.  S.  Bach  ;  he  sees 
the  feeling  for  expressive  declamation  developing  in 
Gluck  ;  he  penetrates  into  the  philosophical  depths  of 
Beethoven's  style,  and  notes  that  the  entirely  modern 
science  of  orchestration  begins  with  him  ;  he  marks  how 
Weber  and  Schumann  are  drawn  into  the  romantic 
movement  and  idealism  ;  and  when  he  finds  united  in 
Wagner  all  these  elements,  and  others  besides,  all  carried 
to  a  higher  perfection  and  put  to  the  service  of  a  drama- 
tist, great  among  the  greatest,  he  has  the  right  to  say  that 
he  admires  because  he  understands  what  there  is  to 
admire.  Of  the  beauties  of  every  kind  that  abound  in 
Wagner's  work,  not  one  is  hidden  from  him,  all  are 
revealed  so  much  the  more  abundantly  in  that  he  has  a 
deeper  knowledge  of  their  origin,  and  his  only  trouble  is 
to  know  what  to  admire  the  most ;  for  Wagner,  when 
he  pleases,  is  as  pure  in  his  writing  as  Bach  ;  his  decla- 
mation is  even  more  expressive  than  Gluck's,  and  truer; 
his  orchestral  effects,  in  their  richness  and  variety,  sur- 
pass even  the  prodigious  orchestration  of  Beethoven, 
Weber,  and  Mendelssohn ;  he  is  just  as  poetic  and 
not  so  obscure  as  Schumann  ;  and,  finally,  he  has 
excelled  every  one  of  those  whom  he  has  taken  as  a 
model.  Moreover,  above  all  hovers,  like  the  dove  of  the 
Grail,  the  breath  of  his  personal  inspiration,  the  individ- 
ual characteristic  note  of  his  genius  ;  whence  it  follows 
that  whilst  we  arc  able  to  establish  with  certainty 
the  chief  lines  of  his  artistic  genealogy,  it  is  impossible  to 
confound  him  with  any  of  his  predecessors,  and  that  each 


72  THE    MUSIC   DRAMAS 

of  his  pages  is  as  though   sealed  with  his   seal,  with  the 
indelible  mark  of  his  incommensurable  genius. 

There  is  also  the  intuitive  admirer,  who  is  musically 
ignorant,  but  endowed  with  an  exquisitely  sensitive  tem- 
perament which  serves  him .  instead  of  erudition.  I 
would  not  dare  to  say  he  understands,  but  he  feels.  It 
is   another  thing,   and  yet  it   is  the  same  thing. 

What  first  captivates  him  is  the  stately  and  imposing 
character  of  the  art  displayed  ;  little  by  little  he  grasps 
the  details  by  means  of  frequent  and  repeated  hearings, 
and  more  especially  by  the  aid  of  the  poetry  ;  for,  even 
if  he  is  ignorant  of  the  music,  he  is  far  from  being  illit- 
erate ;  little  by  little  the  assimilation  of  the  Leit-motive 
with  analogous  situations  also  strikes  him,  attracts  his 
attention,  and  fills  him  with  emotion  ;  he  constantly 
finds  himself  trying  to  sing  them,  and  never  quite  suc- 
ceeds ;  the  instrumentation  affects  him  by  its  pomp  and 
inexhaustible  richness  of  colour,  without  his  troubling  to 
learn  how  it  is  done ;  he  gladly  resigns  himself  to  all 
these  influences,  he  submits  to  the  mastery  of  the  great 
German  Art,  but  he  is  incapable  of  explaining  the  cause 
of  his  emotion  to  a  third  person,  or  sometimes  even  to 
himself;  when  he  attempts  it  he  falters,  but  he  is  sin- 
cerely and   profoundly   moved. 

This  admirer,  whose  instinctive  admiration  is  the 
most  flattering  of  all,  is,  perhaps,  the  most  sympathetic, 
but  he  is  not  the  most  happy  :  for  he  is  more  of  an 
artist  at  heart,  and  he  suffers  more  from  the  want  of  the 
technical  instruction  which  would  allow  him  to  com- 
prehend and  to  analyze  what  he  feels  so  strongly. 

Finally,  there  is  the  partial  admirer,  he  who  makes 
reservations,  who  thinks  the  beginning  of  the  second  act 
of  Lohengrin  too  dark;  who  complains  of  the  intermin- 
able   monologues    of   Wotan   or    Gurnemanz,  and  who 


OF    RICHARD    WAGNER  73 

would  like  the  duets  between  Tristan  and  Isolde  or 
Kurvvenal  to  be  cut,  whilst  still  recognizing,  in  other 
places,  beauties  which  delight  and  transport  him. 

This  one  is  an  admirer  in  the  first  degree  of  initiation  ; 
and  if  he  is  sincere,  if  he  has  not  the  obstinacy  to  cling 
to  his  first  impression,  he  will  gradually  see  his  horizon 
widen.  If  he  is  a  musician,  the  simplest  thing  for  him 
is  to  study  the  scores  carefully  and  without  prejudice, 
paying  especial  attention  to  the  declamation  ;l  if  he  be- 
longs to  the  class  of  intuitive  amateurs,  it  is  by  reading 
and  analyzing  the  poetry  as  well  as  by  repeated  hearings 
that  he  will  arrive  at  the  same  result.  It  may  take  a 
long  time,  but  he  will  come  to  it  ;  for  Wagner  is  not 
one  to  be  liked  by  halves,  and  if  anything  of  his  is  not 
admired,  it  is  because  it  is  not  understood. 

I  once  experimented  with  myself  in  a  way  which  I  do 
not  regret,  but  which  I  would  not  repeat  for  anything  in 
the  world,  because  it  is  most  distressing.  The  series  of 
performances  which  I  was  to  attend  consisted  of  Parsifal, 
the  Meistersinger,  Tristan  and  Isolde,  and  again  Parsifal. 
I  had  devoted  several  weeks  to  a  deep  study  of  Parsifal, 
so  that  there  could  be  no  surprises  in  store  for  me;  I 
knew  the  Meistersinger,  which  was  also  in  the  series, 
pretty  well ;  but  (and  this  is  the  important  part  of  my 
experience)  /  had  not  read  a  single  note  of  "  Tristan  and 
Isolde"  a  few  fragments  of  which  I  only  knew  from 
poor  performances. 

Now  this  is  what  happened  ;  the  two  days  of  Parsifal 
were  for  me  two  days  of  the  most  pure  and  never-to-be- 
forgotten   happiness  ;    I    was   actually   living   among  the 

1  Be  it  understood,  I  speak  here  of  the  German  score,  and  more 
particularly  of  the  orchestral  score.  If  one  does  not  know  enough 
German  to  understand  Wagner's  very  difficult  poetry,  it  is  easy  to 
obtain  a  literal  translation. 


74  THE    MUSIC    DRAMAS 

Knights  of  the  Grail,  and  I  seemed  to  be  in  a  dream  as 
I  strolled  outside  between  the  acts  smoking  cigarettes ; 
the  scenic  illusion  was  as  complete  as  possible  and  the 
happy  impression  it  left  upon  me  will  never  be  effaced 
from  my  memory.  I  was  more  highly  amused  at  the 
buffooneries  (although  somewhat  coarse)  of  the  Meister- 
singer  than  I  had  ever  been  at  the  Palais  Royal  ;  at  the 
same  time  I  was  profoundly  moved  by  the  tender  kind- 
ness of  Sachs  and  his  touching  spirit  of  self-sacrifice. 
But  as  for  Tristan,  I  understood  nothing  at  all,  nothing, 
nothing,  absolutely  nothing.      Is  that  clear  ? 

It  takes  a  certain  amount  of  courage  to  confess  these 
things,  especially  when  one  has  subsequently  succeeded 
in  penetrating  the  innumerable  beauties  of  Tristan  and 
Isolde  ;  but  I  wish  my  sad  example  to  be  of  service  to 
others,  and  therefore  it  is  necessary  to  relate  it. 

We  must  not  go  to  Bayreuth,  then,  without  first 
having  made  a  serious  preparatory  study  of  the  works 
which  we  are  going  to  hear,  and  this  study  is  just  as 
necessary  for  the  poetry  as  for  the  music.  The  more  it 
is  prolonged  and  intelligently  conducted,  the  more  pleas- 
ure we  may  promise  ourselves  from  it. 

I  need  scarcely  say  that  I  do  not  place  in  any  class  of 
admirers  those  unfortunate  victims  of  snobbishness  who 
go  to  Bayreuth  because  it  is  the  fashion,  or  to  show  off 
their  clothes,  or  to  pose  as  intimate  friends  of  the  Wagner 
family,  and  get  Herr  Ernst  to  explain  the  work  during 
the  entr'actes.  The  symptoms  of  their  disease  —  alas! 
incurable  —  are  exceedingly  simple;  it  is  sufficient  to 
sit  down  to  the  piano  and  improvise  some  utterly  mean- 
ingless strains  which  you  dignify  with  the  name  of  Leit- 
motiv e ;  they  immediately  go  into  raptures.  But  this 
experiment  is  not  without  some  danger ;  if  by  chance 
they  find  you  out,  you  may  suffer  for  it. 


OF    RICHARD    WAGNER  75 

It  is  not  for  these  that  I  write,  nor  for  the  rational 
admirer,  whom  I  have  nothing  to  teach ;  but  for  those 
who  admire  intuitively  or  with  reservations;  they  alone 
will  find  advantage  in  being  guided  and  in  profiting 
from  the  experience  of  another,  so  as  to  direct  their 
own  researches  with  a  certain  method,  —  the  only  way 
of  not  missing  anything. 

It  is  expedient  first  to  examine  the  general  structure 
and  the  chief  outlines  of  the   work. 

All  Wagner's  great  works  are  divided  into  three  acts; 1 
I  have  not  met  anywhere  with  the  reason  which  led  him 
to  adopt  this  evidently  intentional  division,  but  it  seems 
to  me  that  such  a  division  is  less  fatiguing  than  that  in 
four  or  five  acts  ;  I  prefer  two  long  entr'actes  to  four 
short  ones;  besides,  this  division  is  admirably  adapted  to 
each  of  the  subjects  treated  by  Wagner,  as  may  be  seen  by 
reading  the  poems,  or  the  brief  analyses  which  follow. 

The  acts  themselves  are  not  divided  into  separate 
numbers,  as  in  the  opera,  but  into  mutually  connected 
scenes,  without  any  break  in  the  action,  so  that,  in  many 
cases,  it  would  be  difficult  to  decide  exactly  at  what 
phrase  one  ends  and  another  begins.  With  the  excep- 
tion of  this  method  of  weaving  everything  together 
into  a  permanent  orchestral  web,  this  division  of  the 
musical  drama  is  not  an  innovation  of  Wagner's.  He 
only  amplified  the  form,  and  gave  to  it,  as  it  were,  the 
force  of  a  law,  after  the  lack  of  uniformity  in  the  drama 
which  prevailed  at  the  beginning  of  this  century. 

Almost  all  the  musicians  of  the  17th  and  18th  centu- 
ries, and  especially  the  French,  always  divided  their 
dramatic  works  into  scenes,  following  in  that  respect  the 
usage  of  the  tragedy  in  verse. 

1  Witli  the  exception  of  Rienzi,  which  has  five  acts,  and  follows, 
moreover,  the  form  of  opera. 


y6  THE   MUSIC    DRAMAS 

In  the  majority  of  these  scenes  were  introduced,  it  is 
true,  airs  for  one,  two,  or  three  voices,  even  purely 
instrumental  airs ;  but  in  the  musical  works  of  this 
period  many  scenes  exist  in  which  the  course  of  the 
action  is  treated  without  any  air  properly  so-called  (the 
air  being,  then,  only  a  reflection  of  the  situation). 

To  quote  only  one  example  from  one  of  the  most 
beautiful  and  best-known  lyrical  tragedies  of  the  18th 
century,  let  us  take  the  second  act  of  Rameau's  Dar- 
danus.     We   find : 

Scene  I.  —  An  orchestral  prelude  linked  to  a  very 
melodic  strain  by  Ismenor,  which,  properly  speaking,  is 
neither  an  air  nor  what  the  ancients  called  the  accom- 
panied  recitative. 

Without  any  interruption  there  follows  :  Scene  II.  — 
Dialogue  between  Ismenor  and  Dardanus.  This  dialogue 
contains  a  passage  of  twenty-four  bars  called  air,  because 
the  musical  phrase  occurs  in  a  regular  manner,  but  which 
has  nothing  in  common  with  the  type  of  air  used  later; 
then  the  dialogue  continues  and  is  linked  to  a  second  air 
of  only  eight  bars,  which,  in  truth,  is  only  a  continuation 
of  the  dialogue,  and  can  no  more  be  regarded  as  an  air 
as  we  have  since  come  to  understand  it,  than  Gurne- 
manz's  melodic  phrase  in  the  "  Spell  of  Good  Friday." 

Scene  III.  —  The  great  incantation  of  Ismenor  and 
his  "ministers,"  broken  with  symphonic  airs  accompany- 
ing a  pantomime  and  very  melodic  solos  (notably  the 
famous  solo,  with  double-bass  accompaniments),  is  in 
very  truth  a  dramatic  scene,  and  not  a  musically  con- 
structed air.  This  scene  is  continued  on  the  arrival  of 
Antenor  by  a  very  stirring  dialogue  between  Antenor  and 
Dardanus  as  Ismenor. 

Scene  IV.  —  Dardanus  and  Iphise,  containing  an  air, 
or    rather    a  melodic    phrase    by    Iphise,  of   forty    bars, 


OF   RICHARD    WAGNER  77 

more  like  our  operatic  airs  on  account  of  its  arrangement, 
major  and  minor,  andante  and  allegro  ;  then  the  dialogue 
continues,  and  ends  on  the  recognition  of  Dardanus  by 
Iphise,  an  action  which  closes  the  act,  as  was  usual  at 
that  time  ;  but,  in  fact,  during  this  entire  act  the  com- 
poser only  occupies  himself  with  the  progress  of  the  dra- 
matic action,  and  with  the  musical  expression  demanded 
by  the  incidents  of  this  action,  without  interrupting  the 
dialogue,  except  very  briefly  as  the  episodes  occur.  With- 
out considering  here  the  part  played  by  the  accompany- 
ing music,  this  is  exactly  the  structure  of  the  Wagnerian 
scenes,  and  this  form  is  not  at  all  peculiar  to  Rameau  ; 
we  find  it  in  all  the  composers  of  the  last  two  centuries, 
before  virtuosity  destroyed  interest  in  the  part  recited  (at 
that  time  the  most  important  part  of  the  action)  and  gave 
an  exaggerated  importance  to  the  air  part  (sonata  or  con- 
certo for  the  voice),  an  intrusion  of  the  symphonic  form 
into  the  construction  of  the  drama,  which  gave  rise 
to  the  whole  of  the  system  of  opera  existing  before 
Wagner. 

We  must  not  think,  then,  that  this  constitutes  what 
has  been  called  the  Wagnerian  reform,  —  a  wrong  word, 
since  it  is  not  here  so  much  a  question  of  modifications 
or  improvements  made  to  a  form  already  existing,  as  a 
neiu  conception  of  the  ivork  of  art  itself .  It  is  far  more  vast 
and  profound.  That  is  orte  of  the  things  which  Wagner 
had  most  trouble  in  making  people  understand;  and 
among  his  most  fervent  and  passionate  admirers  there  are 
a  good  number  who  do  not  yet  comprehend  it. 

It  is  not  possible  in  a  work  of  such  modest  dimen- 
sions as  this  to  enter  into  a  thorough  discussion  of  this 
question  which  has  been  so  often  disputed  :  Which  was 
greater  in  Wagner,  —  the  poet  or  the  musician,  the 
composer  or  the  dramatist  ? 


78  THE    MUSIC    DRAMAS 

We  cannot,  however,  entirely  neglect  it,  without 
danger  of  leaving  too  many  things  in  obscurity. 

In  order  to  establish  a  kind  of  neutral  ground  be- 
tween those  who  wish  to  regard  Wagner  especially  as  a 
dramatic  poet,  and  those,  more  numerous,  who  prefer 
to  admire  him  as  a  musician,  let  us  obviate  the  difficulty 
by  the  introduction  of  a  third  term,  and  say  :  Wagner 
was  above  all  else  a  profound  philosopher,  whose  thought 
assumed  in  turn,  with  equal  facility,  the  poetic  or  the 
musical  form  ;  and  it  is  thus  that  he  must  be  regarded 
to  perfectly  understand  him  in  his  two  aspects. 

The  ancient  philosophers  were  often  at  the  same  time 
mathematicians,  astronomers,  poets,  musicians,  and,  at 
need,  legislators.  They  possessed,  then,  very  striking 
capacities,  which  were  only  various  manifestations  of 
their  very  high  intelligence  and  of  their  genius.  Now, 
Wagner's  genius,  exclusively  directed  from  his  earliest 
youth  towards  one  sole  end,  the  extension  and  exalta- 
tion of  dramatic  power,  was  confronted  with  two  modes 
of  expression,  music  and  poetry,  each  as  energetic  and 
each  as  incomplete  as  the  other,  and  he  foresaw  that  bv 
combining  them  in  one  single  art  he  would  be  able  to 
carry  them  to  their  utmost  power. 

The  whole  effort  of  his  life,  his  undeviating  advance 
through  all  struggles,  his  fixity  of  purpose,  and  the 
unity  of  his  works,  are  evidences  of  this  conviction, 
inspired  by  which  a  character  so  opinionated  as  his 
would  not  allow  itself  to  be  turned  from  the  straight 
line  to  the  goal   so   obstinately   sought. 

The  New  Art,  which  he  created,  he  himself  sa\  s  is 
derived  from  the  ancient  Greek  theatre.  Now,  among 
the  Greeks,  we  find  united  under  the  one  name  of 
music  three  arts,  which  at  present  we  consider  distinct : 
poetry,    already    in    its    splendour;    music,   at   that    time 


OF   RICHARD    WAGNER  79 

quite  rudimentary  ;  and  dancing,  which  we  must  con- 
sider as  mimetic;  the  same  individuals  who  formed  the 
chorus  used  to  sing  rhythmical  words  and  dance  at  the 
same  time.  This  combination  constituted  the  art  of 
the  Muses — Music  —  which  was  then  a  complex  art, 
if  it  ever  was  one.  And  we  have  never  heard  it  said 
that  in  those  days,  as  in  ours,  there  was  ever  any  ques- 
tion of  collaboration  between  a  poet,  musician,  and 
dancing-master;  tragedy  sprang  complete,  fully  armed, 
from  the  brain  of  one  single  author,  who  was  a  philos- 
opher, poet,  and  musician. 

Such  is  Wagner  also,  a  complete  dramatic  genius, 
sufficient  in  himself,  and  holding,  as  his  innate  principle, 
that  the  highest  tragic  power  can  only  be  attained  by 
the  intimate  and  perpetual  union  of  music  and  poetry 
aided  by  gesture,  each  one  keeping  to  its  own  sphere  of 
action  and  exhibiting  its  highest  powers,  without  inter- 
fering  with   the   other. 

This  requires  some  explanation  ;  for  it  will  be  said 
that  music  has  been  set  to  words  in  all  ages.  This  is 
why  for  a  time  Wagner  believed  that  the  opera  form 
might  correspond  to  his  desideratum;  in  fact,  at  least 
since  Gluck,  we  find  in  opera  a  certain  agreement  be- 
tween words  and  notes,  tone  and  speech,  verse  and 
melodic  sentiment;  but  it  is  incontestable  that  the  stage- 
setting,  whilst  being  an  indispensable  canvas  for  the 
composer  as  a  point  of  departure,  becomes  a  secondary 
matter,  and  when  it  comes  to  the  performance  the  spec- 
tator's interest  is  concentrated  almost  entirely  upon  the 
music.  This,  then,  is  not  the  intimate  union  dreamed 
of,  since  the  dramatic  is  absorbed  by  the  purely  musical 
part,  and  the  librettist  himself  is  forced  to  cast  his  liter- 
ary work  in  conventional  forms,  simply  for  the  sake  of 
the  music.      On  the  other  hand,  there  are  cases  when 


80  THE    MUSIC    DRAMAS 

we  feel  that  the  introduction  of  music  is  almost  super- 
fluous, that  it  adds  nothing  to  the  action,  the  prosaic  and 
sordid  character  of  which  could  easily  dispense  with  the 
form  of  verse  even. 

Can  it  be  that  there  are  some  subjects  not  adapted  to 
music  and  the  modes  of  expression  peculiar  to  it  ? 

It  is  here,  between  the  musician  and  poet,  that  the 
philosopher  intervenes,  and  this  is  how  he  resolves  the 
question :  "  Everything  in  a  dramatic  subject  which 
appeals  to  the  reason  alone  can  only  be  expressed  by 
words ;  but,  in  proportion  as  the  emotion  increases,  the 
need  of  another  mode  of  expression  makes  itself  felt 
more  and  more,  and  there  comes  a  moment  when  the 
language  of  music  is  the  only  one  capable  of  adequate 
expression.  This  peremptorily  decides  the  class  of  sub- 
jects suitable  to  the  poet-musician,  which  are  subjects  of 
a  purely  human  x  order,  freed  from  all  conventions,  and 
from  every  element  having  no  signification  except  as  an 
historic  form."  (Richard  Wagner,    1858.) 

This,  then,  settles  the  first  essential  point,  to  know 
what  subject  to  choose. 

Henceforward  Wagner  will  accept  no  more  historical 
subjects,  like  Rienzi,  nor  legendary  ones,  like  The  Flying 
Dutchman ;  he  will  mount  the  steps  of  Montsalvat,  or 
those  equally  mysterious  ones  of  Walhalla,  and  will  dwell 
apart  on  those  heights  where  reason  and  reasoning  have 
no  longer  the  right  to  intervene.  There,  in  fact,  emotion 
and  music  reign  supreme,  and  fancy  may  soar  at  will. 

1  "What  Wagner  calls  'purely  human  basis'  is  that  which 
also  constitutes  the  essence  of  humanity  ;  that  which  soars  above 
all  superficial  difFerences  of  time,  place,  and  climate,  above  all 
historical  and  other  conditions,  in  one  word  all  that  directly  pro- 
ceeds from  the  divine  source." 

H.  S.  Chamberlain, 

Das  Drama  Richard  Wagners  (Leipzig,  1S92); 
French  Translation  (Paris,  1894). 


OF    RICHARD    WAGNER  81 

This  question  of  the  choice  of  subject  is,  then,  of  the 
first  importance,  and  the  Wagnerian  drama  can  only 
move  in  the  regions  of  mysticism,  of  the  supernatural,  of 
mythology,  or  of  the  purely  legendary,  as  in  Tristan  and 
Isolde.  He  does  not  derogate  from  this  law  in  treating 
the  subject  of  the  Meistersinger,  which,  under  its  appear- 
ance of  levity,  conceals  a  real  drama  of  sacrifice  and 
abnegation,  which  drama  passes  in  Sachs's  mind,  and  for 
that  reason  belongs  to  the  domain  of  emotional  music. 

We  already  see  here,  then,  that  the  musician,  by  this 
very  conception,  is  indissolubly  united  with  the  dramatist, 
and  that  it  would  be  useless,  even  idle,  to  try  to  establish 
a  priority  in  favour  of  either  one  or  the  other,  because, 
in  truth,  they  are  but  one,  and  it  cannot  be  otherwise. 

Precision  of  speech  and  the  still  more  penetrating 
accent  of  musical  tones  seemed  to  him  both  equally 
necessary  to  the  expression  of  his  mighty  ideas,  which 
it  would  have  been  impossible  to  convey  in  all  their  ful- 
ness and  splendour  by  one  of  these  two  means  alone. 
To  these  also  must  be  added  gesture,  the  stage-business; 
for  Wagner,  unlike  his  German  predecessors  who  were 
essentially  symphonists,  always  kept  the  stage  in  his  mind. 
He  wrote  his  poems  with  the  idea  in  view  of  setting  them 
to  music,  and,  doubtless,  he  would  have  been  ill  at  ease  if 
he  had  had  to  work  upon  the  libretto  of  another,  but  this 
he  never  attempted.1  His  great  and  incomparable  power 
lies  in  the  fact  that  he  unites  in  himself  all  the  elements 
necessary  for  the  complete  production  of  the  work  of  dra- 
matic art  as  he  conceived  it,  impressive  and  emotional  in 
the  highest  degree,  which  work  stands  veritably  complete 
as  a  whole,  and  for  that  reason  it  is  so  much  the  more 
moving  and   fascinating. 

1  His  very  remarkable  melodies  on  the  poems  of  Victor  Hugo, 
Ronsard,  and  Heinrich  Heine  are  not  in  the  same  category. 

6 


82  THE    MUSIC    DRAMAS 

He  wrote  his  poems  long  before  the  music ;  but 
whilst  writing  them  he  must  have  foreshadowed  the 
music  ;  in  some  measure  it  must  even  have  been  hover- 
ing around  his  poetic  conception,  or  have  been  latent  in 
it  ;  without  its  vivifying  agency  these  very  poems  would 
have  been  incomplete;  we  should  feel  in  them  the  lack 
of  something  higher,  something  more  elevated,  which 
could  only  be  the  music,  and  which,  perhaps  uncon- 
sciously  even,   presided  at  their  conception. 

At  this  point,  where  the  power  of  spoken  language 
ends,  there  begins  the  province  of  music,  which  alone  is 
capable  of  portraying  or  provoking  states  of  mind,  and 
there  also,  where  words  become  insufficient,  Wagner  the 
poet  calls  to  his  aid  Wagner  the  musician. 

We  must  not  regard  him  as  a  poet  who  knows  how  to 
set  his  verse  to  music,  nor  as  a  composer  who  writes  his 
own  poems  ;  but  as  a  complete  genius,  a  philosopher, 
and  a  great  thinker,  who  has  two  languages  at  his  com- 
mand, two  means  of  making  himself  understood  by  his 
fellow-men,  poetry  and  music,  which,  being  united, 
form  but  one  language  with  an  absolutely  matchless 
intensity  of  expression.  By  means  of  poetry  Wagner 
reveals  to  us  the  outward  man,  who  speaks  and  acts  ;  by 
means  of  music,  he  enables  us  to  penetrate  into  the 
secret  thoughts  of  the  inner  man  ;  with  music  also  he 
raises  us  above  terrestrial  humanity  and  transports  us 
into  the  supernatural  regions  of  the  ideal. 

The  equilibrium  to  be  established  between  these  two 
forms  of  the  dramatico-musical  language  was  the  object 
of  much  thought  and  groping  in  the  dark  on  Wagner's 
part.  He  constantly  sought  it,  even  in  his  first  works, 
though  there  unconsciously;  in  Tannhauser  and  Lohengrin 
he  comes  considerably  nearer;  and  the  equilibrium  is 
complete  and  perfect  in  all  his  last  works,  Tristan^  the 


OF    RICHARD    WAGNER  83 

Meistersinger,  the  Tetralogy,  and  in  Parsifal,  which  finally 
appears  as  the  masterpiece  par  excellence  of  the  new  and 
complex  art  which  he  laboured  to  create  j  there  the 
fusion  is  complete,  the  composer  and  the  dramatist  are  at 
last  one,  and  emotion  attains  its  highest  power. 

It  would  seem,  then,  that  the  most  natural  wav  of 
analyzing  works  of  such  unity  would  be  to  deal  with 
the  music  and  the  poetry  at  the  same  time,  since  they 
arc  inseparable  and  indissoluble. 

But  after  a  trial,  I  recognized  that  this  plan,  although 
attractive,  was  totally  lacking  in  clearness.  I  therefore 
regretfully  abandoned  it,  and  I  am  first  going  to  relate 
the  poems  here,  deferring  to  a  future  chapter  that  which 
treats  specially  of  the  music. 

Concerning  the  poems,  my  one  desire  is  to  succeed  in 
presenting  them  in  their  true  aspect,  which  in  the  main 
is  always  simple,  following  the  action  step  by  step,  with- 
out neglecting  any  details  necessary  to  the  complete 
comprehension  of  the  drama ;  but  I  shall  systematically 
abstain  from  commentary,  digression,  and  superfluous  an- 
notation, the  work  being  there  to  explain  itself  in  all 
parts  which  are  intended  to  be  understood,  the  other 
parts  often  have  a  domain  of  their  own  in  the  mysterious 
clouds  with  which  it  has  pleased  the  Master  to  veil  them. 
It  would  seem  to  me  almost  to  be  going  against  his 
wishes  should  I  try  to  let  in  a  factitious  light  where  he 
desires  obscurity,  and  the  spectator  whom  I  desire  to 
guide  would  gain  nothing  from  it,  since  by  so  doing  I 
should  deprive  him  of  one  of  the  most  intellectual  pleas- 
ures reserved  for  him,  that  of  penetrating  for  himself 
into  the  hidden  essence  of  the  drama. 

However,  the  musical  side  cannot  be  completelv 
separated  from  the  poetic. 

At  the  beginning  of  each   analysis  of  a  poem   I  place 


84  THE    MUSIC    DRAMAS 

a  synthetic  table  of  the  entire  work,  which  I  think  I 
ought  to  explain,  as  it  is  drawn  up  in  a  new  way. 

The  first  column  contains  the  names  of  the  characters 
in  the  exact  order  of  their  appearance  on  the  stage,  particu- 
larizing each  voice ;  it  also,  in  a  few  words,  describes 
them  and  their  genealogy  when  it  is  needed  ;  the  other 
columns,  of  variable  number,  show,  act  by  act,  tableau 
by  tableau,  and  scene  by  scene,  the  successive  appear- 
ances of  the  same  characters. 

We  are  thus  enabled,  at  a  glance,  to  see  the  personal- 
ity of  the  character,  the  quality  of  his  voice,  the  relative 
importance  of  his  role,  the  scenes  in  which  he  appears, 
the  number  of  actors  on  the  stage  at  any  given  moment, 
the  introduction  of  the  choruses  and  the  kinds  of  voices 
of  which  they  are  composed,  besides  the  great  divisions 
of  the  work,  etc.1 

TANNHAUSER  ;    or  THE  TOURNAMENT  OF  THE 
SINGERS    AT  THE  WARTBURG 

Act  I. 

Scene  I. — The  stage  represents  the  Venusberg,  or 
subterranean  realm  of  Venus  (near  Eisenach).  In  the 
background  of  the  grotto,  sparkling  under  a  rosy  light,  a 
blue  lake  extends  as  far  as  the  eye  can  reach. 

In  its  waters  sirens  and  naiads  are  sporting ;  on  the 
shores  and  hillocks  amorous  lovers  are  grouped  ;  and 
nymphs  and  bacchantes  are  dancing  with  wild  abandon. 
In  the  foreground,  to  the  left,  upon  a  magnificent  dais,  is 
a  sumptuous  lounge  on  which  Venus  lies.  At  her  feet, 
with  his  head  upon  her  lap  is  Tannhauser. 

1  In  :ill  the  tableaux  the  sign  □  indicates  a  silent  character  ;  the 
actor  is  on  the  stage,  but  docs  not  speak. 


OF    RICHARD    WAGNER 

TANNHAUSER 


85 


CHARACTERS 

ACT 

1. 

ACT 
II. 

ACT 

III 

in  the  order  of  their 
first  entrance. 

SCENES : 

Tab.  1  Tab.2 

1 

^ 

:i 

4 

5 

1 

2 

3 

4  1  S 

1 

2  1  3 

4 

Sirens  {Chorus:  sopr.,  contr.). 

■ 

| 

Venus   (sopr.).     Goddess  of  beauty, 
who  lias  enthralled   Tannhauser  and 
brought  him  into  her  realm. 

'! 

■ 

■ 

■ 

Tannhauser  (tenor).     Poet-kright 

and    singer,    loves    Elizabeth    whom 
he  has  abandoned  for  Venus. 

1    ! 

■ 

■ 

■ 

■ 

■ 

■ 

■ 

■ 

A    Young     Shepherd    (sopr.). 

(Episode.) 

■ 

Old  Pilgrims  {Chorus:  ten.,bas?.). 

E 

■ 

■ 

The     Landgrave      Hermann 
(bass).     Prince  of  Thuringia,  Lord  of 
the  Wartburg,  Elizabeth's  uncle. 

S 

•" 

■ 

■ 

Walter    (tenor).     Poet-knight    and 

■ 

singer. 

singer. 

■ 

Wolfram   (barytone).       Poet-knighl 
and    singer,    loves    Elizabeth    at    a 
distance. 

SE 

Henry     (tenor).      Poet-knight     and 
singer. 

■ 

Reinmar   (bass".     Poet-knight   and 

■ 

singer. 

Elizabethfsopr.).  Niecetothe  Land- 
grave Hermann,  loves  Tannhauser. 

■ 

m 

■ 

... 

■ 

The  People  {Chorus:   sopr.,  ten., 
basses). 

■ 

4  Pages  (sopr.,  contr.). 

■ 

Nobles  {Chorus:  tenors,  basses). 

•' 

Young  Pilgrims  {Chorus :  sopr  , 
contr.). 

■ 

. 


86  THE    MUSIC    DRAMAS 

The  sirens  invite  the  inhabitants  of  the  voluptuous 
empire  to  intoxicate  themselves  with  the  delights  of 
love ;  the  dances  grow  ever  more  animated,  then  they 
gradually  cease  as  the  couples  withdraw,  and  the  mists, 
which  now  mount  and  gather  in  the  background,  obscure 
all  the  figures  but  those  of  Venus  and  Tannhauser  in 
the  foreground. 

Scene  II. — The  knight,  apparently  waking  from  a 
dream,  passes  his  hand  across  his  brow,  as  if  trying  to 
dispel  his  vision  ;  he  thinks  he  hears  the  bells  of  his 
native  country,  which  he  left,  alas !  so  long  ago.  In 
vain  his  goddess  endeavours  to  calm  him;  memories  of 
the  wonders  of  earth,  of  the  starry  firmament,  of  the 
emerald  meadows,  of  the  radiant  Spring  haunt  him  ;  he 
regrets  these  things  and  longs  for  them  again.  Venus 
reminds  him  of  the  sorrows  that  he  endured  upon  that 
earth  and  contrasts  them  with  the  joys  which  are  his  in 
her  companionship.  She  bids  him  take  his  harp  and 
sing  of  love,  the  love  which  has  conquered  for  him  the 
Goddess  of  Beauty. 

Resolutely  seizing  the  instrument,  he  celebrates  the 
enervating  ecstasies  of  voluptuousness  which  the  goddess, 
whilst  making  him  the  equal  of  the  gods,  has  lavished 
upon  him  so  generously  ;  but  his  song  ends  with  a  cry 
of  lassitude  ;  he  no  longer  delights  in  intoxication,  and 
asks  that  he  may  depart  forever.  In  vain  the  enchant- 
ress, with  alternate  menace  and  entreatv,  tries  to  hold 
him.  Twice  again  he  sings  the  hvmn  in  which  he  extols 
the  beauty  of  his  queen  and  the  enchantments  of  her  em- 
pires, vowing  to  sing  them  forever  ;  but  his  desire  to  see 
fresh  Nature  and  her  verdant  woods  becomes  more  and 
more  imperative  ;   he  implores  the  goddess  to  let  him  go. 

A  prey  to  violent  rage,  she  finally  consents,  threaten- 
ing   him   with    all   the   sorrows  of  that  earth   which  he 


OF   RICHARD    WAGNER  87 

wishes  to  see  again  so  ardently,  also  praying  in  her  spite 
that  he  may  bitterly  regret  the  life  which  she  has  made 
so  sweet  to  him  and  which  she  now  closes  to  him  forever; 
then,  with  a  sudden  revulsion,  she  again  tries  to  keep 
him,  renewing  her  seductive  witchery. 

The  knight's  aspirations  turn  only  to  repentance,  to 
death  ;  and,  animated  by  an  ever-increasing  exaltation, 
with  an  impulsive  fervour,  he  calls  on  the  aid  of  the 
Virgin   Mary. 

His  prayer,  heard  without  doubt  by  the  divine  pro- 
tectress, breaks  the  spell  which  has  kept  him  enthralled. 
A  terrific  crash  is  heard:  the  realm  of  pleasure  suddenly 
disappears,  and  the  freed  sinner  finds  himself  in  the  beau- 
tiful valley  which  is  dominated,  on  the  right,  by  the 
Wartburg;. 

Scene  III.  —  In  the  distance,  at  the  back,  is  the 
Horselberg,  the  entrance  to  the  realm  of  the  damned. 
On  the  left,  a  road  descends  among  the  trees  and  rocks 
to  the  front  of  the  stage ;  to  the  right  is  a  mountain 
road,  and  half  way  up,  a  shrine  of  the  Virgin. 

In  the  woods  to  the  left  herd-bells  are  tinkling;  a 
shepherd,  seated  on  a  high  rock,  sings  and  celebrates  the 
Spring  which  is  just  budding,  and  then  plays  upon  his 
pipe.  Meantime,  in  the  distance,  a  chorus  of  men's 
voices  has  been  heard  coming  down  the  mountain. 
These  are  old  pilgrims  going  to  Rome  to  obtain  expia- 
tion for  their  sins,  and  singing  praises  to  Jesus  and  the 
Virgin,  whose  heavenly  help  they  implore.  They  slowly 
cross  the  stage,  still  singing,  and  disappear ;  the  shep- 
herd waves  his  hat  to  them  as  they  pass  and  begs  to 
be  remembered   in   their  prayers. 

Tannhauser,  who  during  this  scene  has  remained 
standing,  motionless,  in  a  deep  and  silent  ecstasy,  now 
falls   upon   his  knees,  praying   in    his  turn  to  that   God 


88  THE   MUSIC   DRAMAS 

against  whom  he  has  so  greatly  offended ;  he  mingles 
his  ardent  praver  with  the  pilgrims'  chant,  which  grows 
fainter  until  gradually  lost  in  the  distance,  whilst  far- 
away church-bells  are  heard  in  the  valley.  Tears  choke 
the  voice  of  the  sinner;  he  weeps  bitterly  over  his  sins 
and  makes  a  vow  to  expiate  them  by  neglecting  repose 
and  seeking  suffering. 

Scene  IV.  —  In  this  attitude  of  sorrowful  humilitv  he 
is  found  by  the  Landgrave  and  his  minstrel  knights, 
who  issue  from  the  woods  on  their  return  from  the 
chase.  Wolfram,  one  of  his  former  companions,  re- 
cognizes him  ;  yes,  it  is  certainly  the  knight,  Heinrich 
Tannhauser,  who  so  often  and  victoriously  took  part  in 
the  poetical  contests  of  the  Wartburg,  and  who  disap- 
peared mysteriously   seven  years  ago. 

All  give  him  cordial  welcome,  and  press  him  with 
questions,  to  which  he  responds  evasivelv.  His  friends, 
happy  at  having  found  him  again,  wish  to  keep  him  with 
them  •,  he  protests,  secretly  faithful  to  his  vow ;  but 
Wolfram  pronounces  a  name  which  has  an  invincible 
power  over  him :  it  is  that  of  Elizabeth,  the  Landgrave's 
niece,  a  chaste  and  pure  maiden  who  secretly  loves 
Tannhauser,  and  who,  since  his  disappearance,  has  lan- 
guished in  silence  and  desolation,  absenting  herself  from 
the  gatherings  which  she  formerly  adorned  with  her 
presence. 

Tannhauser,  much  affected,  allows  himself  to  be  per- 
suaded, and,  joining  his  companions  in  a  cheerful  song, 
asks  to  be  conducted  to  the  gentle  being  for  whom  he 
feels  a  returning  love.  The  Landgrave  winds  his  horn 
and  collects  his  huntsmen,  who  mount  their  steeds, 
and  the  procession  joyfully  ascends  the  road  to  the 
Wartburg. 


OF   RICHARD   WAGNER  89 

Act    II. 

Scene  I.  —  The  stage  represents  the  hall  of  the 
singers  at  the  Wartburg.  Through  the  large  windows 
at  the  back  the  court-yard  of  the  castle  is  visible,  and 
beyond  the  open  country  stretches  till  lost  in  the  dis- 
tance. Elizabeth,  animated  and  joyous,  enters  the  hall 
which  she  has  so  long  deserted,  and  which  she  salutes 
with  delight,  feeling  new  life  return  at  the  approach  of 
her  heart's  choice. 

Scene  II.  —  He  is  not  slow  in  coming,  accompanied 
by  his  loyal  companion,  Wolfram,  who  halts  at  the 
entrance  of  the  hall,  while  Tannhauser  impetuously 
casts  himself  at  the  feet  of  the  princess.  Greatly  moved, 
she  raises  him  and  demands  whence  he  comes.  —  From 
a  distant  country,  which  he  has  already  forgotten, 
he  replies,  and  from  which  only  by  a  miracle  he  has 
made  his  escape.  —  She  is  radiant  at  this,  but  checks  her- 
self in  confusion,  whilst  revealing,  with  a  gnxe  tinged 
with   exquisite  modesty,  the   secret  of  her  virgin  heart. 

Tannhauser  gives  thanks  to  the  God  of  Love  who 
has  permitted  him,  by  the  aid  of  his  melodies,  to  find  the 
way  to  this  pure  soul.  Elizabeth  joins  her  hymn  of 
happiness  to  that  of  her  knight,  while  Wolfram,  who 
has  loved  the  maiden  with  a  secret  and  profound  tender- 
ness, sadly  witnesses  the  destruction  of  his  own  hopes. 

Scene  III.  —  As  the  two  knights  withdraw  together,  the 
Landgrave  enters,  happy  to  see  his  niece's  return  to  gaietv 
and  life  ;  he  begs  to  be  taken  into  her  confidence,  but  the 
young  woman,  much  moved,  only  half  confides  in  him, 
and  he  respects  her  secret :  the  contest  which  is  in  pre- 
paration will,  perhaps,  bring  about  its  revelation. 

Scene  IV.  —  The  knights,  holding  their  noble  ladies 
by  the  hand,  and  led  by  pages,  first  salute  their  host,  the 


9o  THE    MUSIC    DRAMAS 

Landgrave,  Prince  of  Thuringia,  and  then  range  them- 
selves upon  the  raised  seats  facing  the  dais  covered  by  a 
canopy  which  the  Landgrave  and  his  niece  proceed  to 
occupy. 

Scene  V.  —  The  singers,  for  whom  stools  have  been 
reserved  in  front  of  the  assembly,  enter  in  their  turn,  and 
bow  with  grace  and  dignity.  Tannhauser  is  at  one  end 
and  Wolfram  at  the  other. 

The  Prince  then  rises,  and  recalls  for  their  inspiration 
the  tournaments  of  song  which  have  previously  taken 
place  in  this  hall  and  the  glorious  crowns  for  which  his 
knights  contested  when  they  were  fighting  victoriously 
for  the  majesty  of  the  German  Empire. 

But  what  the  Landgrave  proposes  to  celebrate  on  this 
happy  occasion  is  the  return  of  the  gallant  poet  who  has 
been  so  long  absented  from  the  Wartburg  by  a  mysteri- 
ous destiny.  Perhaps  his  songs  will  reveal  his  Odyssey. 
And  the  generous  Prince  ends  by  proposing  the  definition 
of  Love  as  the  subject  of  the  tournament,  inviting  the 
victor  boldly  to  solicit  the  highest  and  most  precious  re- 
ward, which  his  niece  Elizabeth  will  be  as  happy  to  grant 
as  he  himself. 

The  knights  and  ladies  applaud  his  decision,  and  four 
pages  advance  to  collect  the  names  of  the  candidates  in 
a  golden  cup,  to  determine  the  order  of  singing. 

The  name  of  Wolfram  von  Eschenbach  is  the  first 
one  drawn.  While  Tannhauser,  leaning  on  his  harp, 
seems  lost  in  a  reverie,  the  knight  rises  and  describes 
his  conception  of  Love.  He  understands  it  as  pure, 
ethereal,  and  respectful,  and  compares  it  to  a  beautiful 
spring  of  limpid  water  which  he  would  fear  to  disturb  by 
his  approach.  The  mere  sight  of  it  fills  his  soul  with  in- 
expressible delight,  and  he  would  rather  shed  the  last 
drop  of  his  heart's  blood  than  sully  it  with  his  touch. 


OF    RICHARD    WAGNER  91 

His  song  ended,  he  receives  the  warm  approbation  of 
the  assemblage.  But  Tannhauser  rises  quickly  to  com- 
bat this  definition  of  Love,  which  certainly  is  not  bis ; 
he  conceives  of  the  passion  as  less  ideal,  and  under  a 
more  material,  more  carnal  form.  Elizabeth,  who  in 
her  innocence  blindly  accepts  Tannhauser's  point  of 
view,  makes  a  movement  to  applaud,  but  checks  herself 
before  the  grave  and  cold  manner  of  the  assembly. 
Walter  von  der  Vogelweide,  and  after  him  Biterolf,  take 
part  in  the  debate,  expressing  the  same  ideas  as  Wolfram  ; 
Tannhauser  responds  with  vivacity  and  increasing  heat, 
defending  his  theories  of  pagan  Love,  full  of  voluptuous- 
ness and  enjoyment,  which  he  contrasts  with  the  pure 
and  respectful  ecstasy  celebrated  by  the  other  knights. 
The  discussion  becomes  embittered  :  swords  leap  from 
their  scabbards ;  the  Landgrave  makes  heroic  efforts  to 
quell  the  tumult ;  Wolfram  calls  for  Heaven's  assistance 
to  make  virtue  triumphant  by  his  song ;  but  Tannhauser, 
at  the  height  of  his  exaltation  and  madness,  evokes  the 
memory  of  past  delights  and  of  the  goddess  to  whom  he 
owed  them,  and  invites  those  who  are  ignorant  of  these 
passionate  ardours  to  repair  to  the  Venusberg,  where  they 
shall  be  revealed  ! 

A  cry  of  horror  bursts  from  every  throat  at  this  unholy 
invocation  ;  all  draw  aside  from  this  cursed  one,  escaped 
from  the  realm  of  Venus,  who  dares  to  defile  them  with 
his  presence.  Elizabeth,  with  a  wild  gesture,  alone 
remains  in  her  place,  leaning  against  her  chair. 

The  Landgrave  and  his  knights  consort  to  punish 
the  reprobate,  who  stands  motionless  in  a  mental  ecstasy. 
They  rush  upon  him  with  drawn  swords,  but  Elizabeth 
thcows  herself  before  them,  making  a  rampart  of  her 
body  for  the  guilty  man.  —  What  are  they  going  to  do? 
What  harm  has  he  done  them  ?      By  plunging  the  sinner 


92  THE   MUSIC    DRAMAS 

in  the  abyss  of  death  at  the  moment  when  his  soul  is 
under  the  influence  of  an  evil  spell,  will  they  condemn 
him  without  mercy  to  eternal  punishment  ?  Have  they 
the  right  to  be  his  judges  ?  —  She,  his  pure  betrothed,  so 
sad  and  so  cruelly  undeceived,  offers  herself  to  God  as 
an  expiatory  victim  ;  she,  suffering  for  the  criminal,  will 
implore  Heaven  to  send  the  sinner  the  repentance  and 
faith  necessary  for  his  redemption. 

Tannhauser,  who  little  by  little  has  recovered  from 
his  frenzy  and  has  heard  Elizabeth's  prayer,  falls  to 
earth,  overcome  by  sorrow  and  remorse.  Touched  by 
the  generous  supplication  of  the  tender-hearted  princess, 
the  Landgrave  and  his  knights  sheathe  their  swords  ;  the 
Landgrave  then  induces  him,  whose  soul  is  charged  with 
so  heavy  a  crime,  to  go  to  seek  pardon  in  Rome  with  a 
band  of  young  pilgrims,  who  are  now  just  gathering  from 
all  parts  of  Thuringia  to  undertake  the  holy  journey. 
If  he  returns  absolved  by  the  Sovereign  Pontiff,  they  will 
also  forget  his  sin.  All  present  unite  with  the  Land- 
grave in  promising  forgetfulness  of  his  crime  in  that 
event.  Pious  hymns  are  now  heard  in  the  distance  : 
they  come  from  the  band  of  young  pilgrims  already  on 
the  march  to  the  Holy  City.  Every  one  listens  with 
emotion  ;  and  Tannhauser,  now  sustained  by  divine  hope, 
rushes  with  intense  enthusiasm  into  the  train  of  repent- 
ant sinners. 

Act  III. 

Scene  I.  —  The  landscape  is  the  same  as  that  shown 
at  the  end  of  Act  I.,  but  with  an  autumnal  dress.  The 
day  is  at  its  decline ;  on  the  mountain  Elizabeth  is  seen 
prostrate,  fervently  praying  at  the  feet  of  the  Virgin. 
Wolfram  descends  through  the  woods  at  the  left  and 
stops  as  he  sees  her;  he  contemplates  the  saintly  creature, 


OF    RICHARD    WAGNER 


93 


who  prays  to  Heaven  day  and  night  for  him  who  has  so 
cruelly  betrayed  her.  Already,  thinks  Wolfram,  the 
autumn  approaches  when  the  pilgrims  are  to  return. 
Will  he  be  among  the  elect  who  have  received  absolution 
for  their  sins  ? 

Absorbed  in  reflection,  he  continues  his  descent,  when 
in  the  distance  an  approaching  chorus  of  old  pilgrims  is 
heard;  he  again  halts.  Elizabeth  has  heard  their  hvmns  ; 
she  beseeches  the  hosts  of  Heaven  to  assist  her  in  this 
moment  of  anguish,  and  rises  to  watch  the  pious  travel- 
lers as  they  pass  praising  the  Lord  and  his  mercies  vouch- 
safed to  them. 

Elizabeth  looks  anxiously  for  Tannhauser  among  the 
saintly  company ;  not  seeing  him,  she  kneels  in  an  atti- 
tude of  sorrowful  resignation,  while  the  procession  re- 
cedes ;  and,  in  an  ardent  invocation  to  the  Mother  of 
God,  she  blames  herself  for  the  profane  desires  and 
earthly  thoughts  which  formerly  occupied  her  heart, 
and  beseeches  the  Divine  Consolatress  to  reclaim  her 
and  open  to  her  the  abode  of  the  blessed,  where  she  can 
more  effectually  pray  for  him  who  still  bears  the  burden 
of  his  guilt.  Her  inspired  countenance  is  raised  towards 
the  sky  ;  she  rises  slowly,  and  when  Wolfram,  who  has 
been  regarding  her  with  profound  emotion,  approaches 
and  asks  permission  to  accompany  her,  she  makes  him 
understand  by  an  affectionate  and  grateful  gesture  that 
the  road  that  she  must  take  is  that  which  leads  to  Heaven, 
and  no  one  may  follow  her.  She  walks  slowly  along  the 
road  leading  towards  the  castle. 

Scenic  II.  —  Wolfram  sadly  watches  her  departure, 
then,  being  alone,  he  seizes  his  harp,  and,  after  a  prelude, 
begins  a  song  full  of  poetic  melancholy,  in  which  he 
apostrophizes  the  lovely  evening  star  whose  pure  rays  il- 
lume the  dark  night  shrouding  the   valley  and  reveal  the 


94  THE   MUSIC    DRAMAS 

path  to  the  perplexed  traveller.  To  this  serene  star  he 
confides  her  who  is  about  to  leave  the  earth  forever  and 
enter  the  abode  of  the  blessed. 

Scene  III.  —  During  his  song,  night  has  fallen  ;  a  pil- 
grim, exhausted  with  fatigue,  with  ragged  clothes  and 
emaciated  face,  appears,  leaning  painfully  upon  his  staff; 
it  is  Tannhauser,  in  whom  Wolfram  recognizes  with 
consternation  the  still  unpardoned  sinner.  How  dare  he 
show  his  face  in  this  country  ? 

Tannhauser,  with  a  sinister  manner,  asks  of  him  the 
way  to  the  Venusberg,  which  he  once  knew  so  well  but 
which  he  cannot  find  now.  At  these  words  Wolfram  is 
terror-stricken  ;  his  old  companion,  then,  has  not  been  to 
Rome  to  sue  for  divine  grace? 

Tannhauser's  anger  blazes  forth,  and  in  a  recital  of 
poignant  despair,  he  retraces  the  progress  of  his  unhappy 
voyage,  his  humility,  his  desire  for  mortification  which 
caused  him  to  multiply  the  trials  and  difficulties  of  the 
way ;  then  his  arrival  in  Rome,  his  great  hope  at  the 
sight  of  the  Pontiff  who  promised  redemption  to  all 
the  penitents,  and  finally  the  breaking  up  of  his  whole 
being  when,  with  a  broken  heart,  having  confessed  his 
past  crimes,  he  saw  himself,  the  only  one  among  thou- 
sands of  pilgrims,  pitilessly  repulsed  by  God's  representa- 
tive—  the  Sovereign  Pontiff — who  pronounced  him 
forever  accursed,  and  predicted  for  him  the  sufferings  of 
an  infernal  furnace  in  which  hope  would  no  more  blos- 
som for  him  than  his  pilgrim's  staff  would  ever  again  put 
forth  green  leaves. 

At  that  moment,  so  extreme  was  his  despair  that  he 
fell  almost  lifeless  to  the  ground;  but  now,  having 
somewhat  recovered,  he  can  measure  the  extent  of  his 
misery ;  only  one  thing  is  left  to  him,  and  to  this  he  is 
hastening   with   the    eagerness  of  despair :    his  shall    be 


OF    RICHARD    WAGNER  95 

Venus,  his  the  corrupting  enchantment  of  her  ardent 
delights. 

Scene  IV.  —  In  vain  Wolfram  tries  to  arrest  the  un- 
holy invocation  on  the  lips  of  the  unhappy  man  and  take 
him  away  with  him  :  Venus  has  heard  his  call,  and  she 
hastens  to  him.  A  light  cloud  floats  into  the  valley, 
delicious  perfumes  are  borne  on  the  air,  through  the  rosy 
mists  are  seen  the  seductive  dances  of  the  nymphs,  and 
soon  a  brilliant  light  reveals  the  goddess  reclining  upon 
her  couch.  She  calls  the  enraptured  Tannhauser  to  her 
side,  reminding  him  of  the  myriad  joys  which  await  him 
anew  within  her  realm.  Wolfram  struggles  desperately  in 
his  attempt  to  tear  his  friend  from  these  fatal  seductions ; 
but  Tannhauser  resists  all  the  knight's  virtuous  exhorta- 
tions. In  another  moment  his  soul  will  be  lost,  Venus 
is  about  to  seize  her  prey,  once  for  all,  when,  for  the 
second  time,  the  name  of  Elizabeth,  that  angel  of  purity, 
pronounced  by  Wolfram,  produces  its  blessed  effect. 
On  hearing  it,  Tannhauser  stands  motionless,  as  if  struck 
by  lightning. 

Sckne  V.  —  At  this  moment  a  chorus  of  men  In  the 
distance  proclaims  the  end  of  the  pious  martyr's  suffer- 
ings. Her  soul,  freed  henceforth  from  earthly  sorrows, 
has  taken  its  radiant  flight  to  the  celestial  sphere,  where 
she  intercedes  for  the  pilgrim  at  the  foot  of  the  throne 
of  God. 

Venus,  recognizing  at  last  that  she  is  defeated,  dis- 
appears with  all  her  magical  attendants. 

Down  the  valley  descends  the  long  train  of  nobles, 
accompanying  the  Landgrave,  then  follow  the  pilgrims 
carrying  on  a  litter  the  body  of  the  young  saint  and 
chanting  a  sacred  dirge.  At  a  sign  from  Wolfram  they 
set  down  the  mortal  remains  of  Elizabeth  in  the  centre 
of  the  stage  ;  Tannhauser  falls  by  its  side,  invoking  the 


9*>  THE    MUSIC    DRAMAS 

heavenly  aid  of  the  blessed   Elizabeth,  and   dies,  over- 
whelmed with  grief  and  repentance. 

At  this  moment  the  young  pilgrims  advance,  carrying 
the  cross,  which  is  bursting  into  leaf  and  covered  with 
flowers,  a  miraculous  manifestation  of  divine  pardon, 
and  all  present,  deeply  affected,  sing  an  Alleluia  in  grati- 
tude to  Him  who,  taking  pity  on  the  sufferings  of  the 
sinner  and  heeding  the  prayers  of  his  gentle  protectress, 
has  granted  His  supreme  mercy  to  the  guilty  one. 


LOHENGRIN 

Act  I. 

Scene  I.  —  The  action  is  placed  in  the  ioth  century 
in  Brabant ;  the  first  scene  passes  on  the  banks  of  the 
Scheldt,  near  Antwerp.  In  the  middle  distance,  on  the 
left,  is  an  enormous  ancient  oak,  behind  which  runs  the 
river,  describing  a  curve  of  such  extent  that  its  windings 
are  visible  a  second  time  in  the  background. 

At  the  rising  of  the  curtain,  the  Emperor  of  Germanv, 
Henry  the  Fowler,  is  sitting  under  an  oak,  surrounded 
by  the  Counts  of  Saxony  and  Thuringia  and  the  nobles 
who  form  the  King's  Ban.  Facing  them  are  the  nobles 
and  people  of  Brabant,  headed  by  Frederick  von  Tel- 
ramund  and  his  wife,  Ortrude. 

The  herald-at-arms,  advancing,  sounds  the  King's 
call  and  demands  the  submission  of  his  Brabancon 
subjects;  all  swear  fealtv.  King  Henry  then  rises  and 
describes  the  situation  of  Germany  to  his  vassals:  he 
recalls  his  sanguinary  struggles  with  the  Hungarians, 
the  frequent  invasions  from  the  east,  and  the  nine  years' 
truce  which  he  has  obtained  and  employed  in  fortifying 
the  frontiers  and  in  drilling  his  armies ;  but  now  that  the 


OF    RICHARD    WAGNER 

LOHENGRIN 


97 


CHARACTERS 


in  the  order  of  their 
first  entrance. 


ACT 
I. 


ACT 
II. 


ACT  III. 


Tab. 
II. 


Herald-at-Arms  (bass).  Appearing  most 
frequently  escorted  by  4  trumpeters  sounding 
1 1  iu  King's  call. 

The  Brabancon  Knights  ( Chorus :  tenors, 
basses). 

King  Henry  (bass).  King  of  Germany. 
Hi  lical  character:  Henry  the  Fowler,  Em- 
peror of  Germany. 

The  Saxon  Knights  (Chorus:  tenors, 
basses). 

Frederick  of  Telramundtbaryt.).  Bra- 
bancon count.  Once  Elsa's  betrothed.  Hus- 
band of  Ortrude;  through  ambition  becomes 
traitor  to  honour,  and  the  accuser  of  the  inno- 
ce  it  Elsa. 

Ortrude  (mez.  sopr).  Wife  of  Frederick; 
daughter  of  Ratbold,  King  of  the  Frisians;  in 
default  of  Elsa  and  her  brother,  heiress  to  the 
crown  of  Brabant.  Sorceress,  sacrifices  to  pa- 
gan gods.     Frederick's  evil  genius. 

Elsa    of    Brabant  (sopr.).     Daughter  and 

re  :  "i  ill1'  Duke  ol  Brabant,  falsely  ac- 
-  '  1  by  Frederick  and  Ortrude  of  the  murder 
of  her  young  brother.     Marries  Lohengrin. 


Maidens  (Chorus :   sopr.  contr.). 
tendants. 


Elsa's  at- 


Lohengrin    (tenor).       Knight    of    the    Grail, 
"t    Parsifal;    champion    ol     Elsa,   whom 
he   marries.     He   is   proclaimed    Protector  of 
Brabant. 


4  Brabancon  Noblemen  (2  ten.,  2  basses). 
I >ire  with  Frederick  against  Lohengrin. 

4  Pages  (2  sopr.,  2  contr.). 

Pages  (Chorus:  sopr.,  contr.). 


■   ■ 


98  THE    MUSIC    DRAMAS 

time  has  expired,  the  enemy,  having  refused  all  concilia- 
tion, is  again  advancing  threateningly  and  the  sovereign 
is  organizing  a  universal  enrolment  of  his  people  to 
repulse  his  adversaries  and  force  them  to  respect  the 
German  Empire,  which  they  will  then  no  longer  think 
of  insulting. 

But  on  his  arrival  in  this  province,  what  was  his  grief 
to  hear  of  the  discords  to  which  it  is  a  prey  !  What 
has  happened,  and  why  is  it  without  a  prince  and  given 
up  to  intestine  war?  The  sovereign  questions  Frederick 
von  Telramund  on  this  subject  and  invites  the  virtuous 
knight  to  reply  without  circumlocution. 

Frederick,  promising  to  give  his  King  and  sovereign  a 
true  account,  describes  the  events  which  have  occurred 
as  follows :  The  old  Duke  of  Brabant  at  his  death  left 
two  children ;  a  daughter,  Elsa,  and  a  young  prince, 
Godfrey,  the  heir  to  his  throne,  whose  education  had 
been  confided  to  his  faithful  knight,  Telramund.  What 
was  the  grief  of  the  latter  one  day  on  learning  that  the 
young  prince,  whilst  walking  out  with  his  sister,  had  dis- 
appeared without  leaving  any  trace  behind  !  Struck  with 
horror  at  the  thought  of  the  crime  which  Elsa  alone 
could  have  perpetrated,  Frederick  hastened  to  renounce 
the  hand  of  the  maiden  who  had  been  promised  to  him- 
self and  to  marry  Ortrude ;  now,  he  demands  justice 
against  the  odious  criminal,  at  the  same  time  reminding 
King  Henry  that  he  is  the  direct  heir  to  Brabant  by  his 
relationship  to  the  old  Duke  and  also  by  Ortrude,  his 
wife,  who  is  also  of  the  princely  blood. 

All  present,  moved  by  the  knight's  accusation,  try  to 
defend  Elsa  ;  the  King  himself  doubts  her  crime ;  but 
the  implacable  Frederick  explains  the  dark  designs  of  the 
maiden,  by  saying  that  in  her  heart  she  has  a  secret  love 
which  she  would  be  more  free  to  indulge  if  she  became 


OF   RICHARD    WAGNER 


99 


sovereign  mistress  of  Brabant  in  the  place  of  her  brother 
whom  she  has  assassinated. 

Henry  then  decides  to  have  the  accused  one  brought 
to  trial  without  delay.  He  invokes  the  aid  of  God,  so 
that  he  may  be  enlightened  with  the  wisdom  of  the  Most 
High  in  this  solemn   moment. 

Scene  II.  —  Elsa  advances  slowly,  with  a  grave  and 
sad  air,  followed  by  her  train  of  women  ;  her  gentle  and 
sympathetic  looks  gain  all  hearts  ;  the  sovereign  asks  her 
if  she  is  willing  to  accept  him  as  a  judge,  and  if  she 
knows  of  what  crime  she  is  accused.  What  has  she  to 
say  in  her  defence  ? — To  all  these  questions  she  only 
replies  by  gestures  of  resignation ;  then,  with  a  far-away 
look  in  her  eyes,  she  softly  murmurs  the  name  of  her 
brother.  The  curiosity  of  every  one  is  excited  by  this 
strange  behaviour,  and  the  King  asks  her  to  explain  her- 
self. Elsa,  as  though  speaking  to  herself  and  plunged 
into  a  kind  of  ecstasy,  recalls  the  day  when,  overwhelmed 
with  sorrow,  she  addressed  an  ardent  supplication  to 
God,  and  fell  into  a  deep  sleep  ;  in  this  sleep  a  knight 
clothed  in  shining  armour  appeared  to  her,  sent  by 
Heaven  to  protect  her.  It  is  he  whom  she  awaits;  he 
will  be  her  defender  and  will  make  her  innocence  clear. 

Seeing  the  gentle  creature  dreaming  thus,  the  King 
cannot  believe  in  her  guilt;  Frederick,  however,  persists 
in  his  role  of  accuser,  and,  the  better  to  gain  their  atten- 
tion, he  recalls  bis  past  valour,  defying  any  one  who  is 
willing  to  take  Elsa's  part  to  fight  with  him.  All  the 
nobles  challenge  him.  Henry,  not  knowing  how  to  de- 
cide, calls  on  the  judgment  of  God,  and  asks  Elsa  whom 
she  will  choose  for  her  champion  ;  she  again  repeats  that, 
relying  on  the  protection  of  God,  she  awaits  the  knight 
who  is  to  fight  for  her,  and  on  whom  she  will  bestow  her 
heart  and  crown,  in  reward  for  his  devotion. 


ioo  THE    MUSIC    DRAMAS 

The  King  orders  the  trumpets  to  be  sounded  to  the 
four  cardinal  points,  and  orders  the  combat  to  be  pro- 
claimed ;  but  a  dismal  silence  is  the  only  response. 
Elsa,  falling  at  the  feet  of  the  King,  entreats  him  to 
order  a  repetition  of  the  call,  which  her  knight  may  not 
have  heard  in  his  distant  retreat.  Henry  grants  her  re- 
quest, and  the  trumpets  sound  once  again.  Elsa,  in  an 
ardent  prayer  to  the  Most  High,  implores  him  not  to 
abandon   her. 

Suddenly,  those  spectators  who  are  nearest  to  the 
bank  see  in  the  distance  on  the  river  a  boat  drawn  by  a 
swan  and  bearing  a  knight,  standing  erect,  clothed  in 
silver  armour.  They  call  to  all  the  assembly  ;  every  one 
cries  a  miracle,  and  all  are  lost  in  wonder ;  meanwhile 
the  swan  continues  to  advance,  following  the  winding  of 
the  river,  and  the  frail  bark  soon  brings  the  voyager 
to  the  bank.  The  King  looks  on  from  his  seat ;  Elsa 
gazes  enraptured  ;  Frederick  is  a  prey  to  the  most  in- 
tense astonishment  ;  and  Ortrude,  whose  face  is  marked 
with  a  malevolent  and  anxious  expression,  angrily  glances 
at  Elsa  and  at  the  mysterious  arrival. 

Scene  III.  —  The  knight,  on  leaving  his  boat,  leans 
towards  the  swan,  and,  bidding  it  a  touching  farewell, 
tells  it  to  return  to  the  distant  country  whence  they 
come;  the  swan  takes  the  boat  back  in  the  direction 
traversed  and  majestically  sails  away  up  the  river.  The 
mysterious  stranger  sadly  follows  it  with  his  eyes ;  then, 
when  it  is  lost  to  sight,  he  advances  towards  King  Henry, 
and,  respectfully  saluting  him,  announces  that  he  has 
come,  sent  by  God,  to  defend  the  innocent  maiden  who 
is  unjustly  accused  of  the  blackest  of  crimes.  Then, 
addressing  Elsa,  who  since  his  arrival  has  followed  him 
with  her  eyes  without  moving  from  her  place  and  in  a 
kind   of  ecstasy,  he  asks  her  if  she   is  willing  to  entrust 


OF   RICHARD    WAGNER  101 

him  with  the  care  of  defending  her  honour  and  if  she 
has  confidence  in  his  arm  to  fight  against  her  enemy. 
Elsa,  who  has  been  roused  from  her  silent  contemplation 
by  these  words,  and  who  casts  herself  at  his  feet  to  express 
her  ardent  gratitude,  answers  in  the  affirmative  ;  he  then 
begs  her  to  consent  to  become  his  wife  when  he  has 
victoriously  defended  her;  if  she  will  grant  him  this  hap- 
piness, he  will  crave  one  more  favour,  —  which  is  that  she 
shall  never  seek  to  know,  either  by  persuasion  or  by 
strategy,  either  his  name  or  whence  he  came.  He 
vehemently  insists  upon  this  important  stipulation,  and, 
when  the  maiden  has  made  him  the  formal  promise 
never  to  attempt  to  penetrate  the  mystery  which  sur- 
rounds his  coming,  never  to  ask  his  name  nor  his  origin, 
he  presses  her  tenderly  to  his  heart  before  the  eyes  of  the 
King  and  the  delighted   populace. 

Then  he  confides  his  betrothed  to  the  King,  loudly 
proclaiming  her  innocence,  and  calls  the  Count  of  Telra- 
mund  to  the  combat,  of  which  God  shall  be  the  judge. 

Frederick  betrays  great  agitation  ;  his  followers,  now 
convinced  of  the  injustice  of  his  cause,  persuade  him  to 
decline  the  combat ;  but,  fearing  to  appear  a  coward  if  he 
withdraws,  he  meets  his  adversary's  challenge  with  an 
answering  defiance.  The  King  then  appoints  three 
witnesses  for  each  champion,  whom  the  herald-at-arms 
soon  sets  face  to  face,  after  having  instructed  them  in  the 
conditions  of  the  combat.  The  two  knights  engage, 
and,  after  several  skilful  passes,  the  stranger  strikes 
Frederick  to  the  ground  at  the  mercy  of  his  sword  ; 
with  one  blow  he  might  run  him  through;  but,  consider- 
ing the  proof  sufficiently  convincing  as  it  is,  he  grants 
him  his  life,  and,  turning  towards  the  gracious  sovereign, 
he  receives  the  radiant  and  agitated  Elsa  from  his  hands. 
All    present    share    in   the   joy    of   the    conqueror ;  the 


102  THE    MUSIC   DRAMAS 

knights  and  nobles  press  into  the  lists,  and,  while  Freder- 
ick crawls  painfully  along  the  ground  grieving  over  his 
lost  honour  and  Ortrude  pursues  the  elect  of  God  with 
her  malevolent  mutterings,  the  Saxon  nobles  raise  the 
conqueror  on  his  own  shield  ;  and  the  Brabancons,  plac- 
ing Elsa  on  the  King's  shield  which  they  cover  with 
their  mantles,  carry  the  betrothed  pair  off  the  stage  in 
triumph,  amid  the  songs  of  joy  and  the  enthusiastic 
shouts  of  the  entire   wondering  assembly. 

Act  II. 

Scene  I.  —  The  stage  represents  the  inner  court  of 
the  castle  of  Antwerp.  At  the  back  is  the  Palace, 
where  the  knights  live,  the  windows  of  which  are  all 
brilliantly  lighted  ;  to  the  left,  the  porch  of  the  church, 
and,  further  back,  the  gate  which  leads  into  the  town  ; 
to  the  left,  the  Kemenate,  or  women's  quarters,  which 
is  reached  by  a  flight  of  steps  leading  to  a  kind  of 
balcony. 

As  the  curtain  rises,  two  people  in  sombre  and  miser- 
able garments  are  sitting  on  the  steps  of  the  church. 
They  are  the  knight  Telramund  and  his  wife.  Fred- 
erick breaks  out  into  imprecations  against  his  compan- 
ion :  why  has  he  no  weapon  left  to  strike  her  and  rid 
himself  forever  of  her  odious  presence !  It  was  she 
who  led  him  into  this  combat  and  made  him  lose  his 
honour;  she  who,  King  and  calumniating,  affirmed  she 
had  seen  from  afar  Elsa  accomplish  her  crime  in  the 
forest ;  she,  again,  who  formerly  induced  him  to  re- 
nounce the  hand  of  the  maiden  to  sue  for  an  alliance 
with  her,  Ortrude,  who  pretended,  as  the  last  scion  of 
the  race  of  Ratbold,  that  she  would  soon  be  called  to 
reign  over  Brabant ! 


OF    RICHARD    WAGNRR 


103 


O  it  rude  scarcely  replies  to  this  flood  of  reproaches, 
and  lays  the  shame  of  his  defeat  upon  Frederick;  why 
did  he  not  oppose  his  adversary  with  rage  such  as  this ! 
—  he  could  then  soon  have  vanquished  the  self-styled  pro- 
tege of  God!  But,  however  that  may  be,  says  she, 
everything  may  yet  be  repaired  ;  for  the  occult  sciences 
which  she  has  studied  have  revealed  to  her  what  she  has 
to  do  and  will  supply  her  with  the  means :  if  Telra- 
mund  will  only  allow  her  to  act,  she  will  answer  for  her 
success.  First  of  all,  they  must  trick  Elsa  and  instil 
into  her  heart  a  leaven  of  curiosity  with  regard  to  her 
husband's  past.  If  they  can  manage  to  make  her  break 
her  promise  and  question  him  regarding  his  origin,  and 
make  him  divulge  it  to  her,  the  charm  which  protects 
the  mysterious  knight  will  be  broken.  In  order  to  force 
the  hero  to  reveal  himself,  it  will  suffice  to  accuse  him 
of  having  deceived  the  tribunal  by  the  aid  of  sorcery. 
If  these  means  fail,  there  is  still  another :  if,  during  the 
combat,  Frederick  had  succeeded  in  giving  the  body  of 
his  adversary  the  slightest  wound,  the  protecting  charm 
would  equally  have  ceased  to  defend  him.  He  must 
therefore  challenge  him  again  and  endeavour  to  wound 
him  slightly,  for,  however  light  the  scratch  may  be,  it 
will  suffice  to  break  the  spell. 

Hearing  these  perfidious  words,  Frederick,  in  his 
hatred,  takes  fresh  courage  and  swears  to  his  wife  that 
he  will  second  her  in  her  dark  designs. 

Scene  II. — At  this  moment  Elsa,  clothed  in  white, 
comes  out  to  lean  on  the  balcony  of  the  Kemenate  to 
dream  of  her  happiness.  Her  two  enemies  are  still  on 
the  steps  of  the  church,  but  the  darkness  prevents  her 
from  seeing  them. 

Ortrude  comes  under  the  balcony,  and,  calling  with 
an  humble  and   lamentable  voice,  makes  herself  known 


io4  THE    MUSIC    DRAMAS 

to  Elsa  ;  she  implores  her  pity.  What  has  she  done  to 
be  so  cruelly  stricken  ?  She  asks  herself  in  vain.  Is 
it  because  she  has  married  him  whom  Elsa  had  so  dis- 
dainfully repulsed?  Why  has  she  incurred  such  dis- 
grace ?  And,  continuing  her  hypocritical  speech,  she 
excites  the  pity  of  the  gentle  Elsa,  who,  moved  at  her 
great  misfortunes,  promises  to  protect  her  and  restore 
her  to  favour. 

Whilst  the  maiden  leaves  the  balcony  to  come  to  her, 
Ortrude,  seeing  her  victim  already  in  her  power,  offers 
up  a  wild  prayer  to  the  pagan  gods,  Wotan  and  Frei'a, 
to  whom  she  sacrifices  in  secret,  but  she  resumes  her 
supplicating  attitude  on  the  return  of  Elsa,  who  raises 
her  kindly,  promising  that  she  will  plead  her  cause  with 
the  husband  who  is  about  to  lead  her  to  the  altar ;  she 
will  see  that  her  friend  and  pj-oteg'ee,  in  magnificent 
attire,  shall  accompany  the  nuptial  train. 

Ortrude,  feigning  the  liveliest  gratitude,  says  she 
wishes  to  prove  it  by  giving  her  some  good  advice  — 
Elsa  must  not  trust  this  mysterious  husband  to  whom 
she  is  going  to  be  united ;  one  day,  perhaps,  he  will 
depart  as  he  came,  deserting  his  too  confiding  compan- 
ion. Elsa,  troubled  by  Ortrude's  words,  answers  that 
she  cannot  doubt  him  whom  she  loves,  and  spurns  these 
insinuations;  but  Ortrude's  perfidious  machinations  will 
germinate,  nevertheless.  Ortrude  enters  the  Palace  with 
her  victim,  whilst  Frederick,  remaining  before  the 
church,  unperceived,  but  having  heard  everything,  hurls 
his  curses  at  the  gentle  creature. 

Scene  III.  —  Day  is  just  breaking.  It  soon  becomes 
broad  daylight ;  the  soldiers  sound  the  reveille  and  an- 
swer each  other  from  tower  to  tower.  The  servants, 
coming  out  of  the  Castle,  go  to  the  fountain  to  draw 
water,  the   porter   opens   the    massive   gate,  and    people 


OF    RICHARD    WAGNER 


105 


begin  to  stir  about.  Four  trumpeters  appear  at  the 
entrance  of  the  Palace  and  sound  the  King's  call ;  the 
nobles  and  knights  come  into  the  court-yard,  and  salute 
each  other  and  converse. 

The  herald-at-arms  appears,  and  proclaims  that,  by 
the  King's  will,  Frederick  is  banished  from  the  empire 
for  having  falsely  appealed  to  the  judgment  of  God ; 
furthermore,  he  threatens  with  the  same  fate  whoever 
shall  afford  him  asylum  or  protection.  Then,  after 
another  flourish  of  trumpets,  he  declares,  still  in  the 
name  of  the  King,  that  the  stranger  sent  by  God  on 
whom  Elsa  has  bestowed  her  hand,  in  accepting  the 
crown,  declines  the  title  of  Duke,  for  which  he  intends 
to  substitute  that  of  Protector  of  Brabant,  and  invites 
his  new  subjects  to  prepare  without  delay  for  the  battles 
in  which,  accompanying  the  King  on  his  martial  expe- 
ditions, they  will  reap  a  new  harvest  of  glory. 

The  people,  who  have  attentively  followed  the  pro- 
clamation of  the  herald-at-arms,  concur  in  the  King's 
sentiments  with  regard  to  Telramund  as  well  as  his 
enthusiasm  for  the  unknown  knight, and  joyfully  approve 
of  his  warlike  projects  ;  but,  while  the  crowd  talks  with 
animation,  in  the  front  of  the  stage  a  group  of  four  nobles 
forms,  who  are  discontented  with  the  actions  of  the  Pro- 
tector and  jealous  of  his  new  authority.  Seeing  that 
they  are  evilly  disposed  towards  his  enemy,  Frederick 
approaches  them  craftily,  and  in  a  few  words  tells  them 
of  the  plan  of  the  combat  into  which  he  is  going  to 
enter  against  the  stranger. 

The  nuptial  train  advances,  and  Frederick  has  only 
time  to  conceal  himself  behind  the  nobles,  who  hide  him 
from  the  view  of  those  present. 

Scene  IV.  —  Elsa  appears  in  the  middle  of  the  train 
arraved  in  her  bridal  robes.     Ortrude  follows  her,  also 


106  THE   MUSIC   DRAMAS 

richly  apparelled  ;  but,  at  the  moment  when  her  benefac- 
tress is  about  to  mount  the  steps  of  the  church,  her  anger 
blazes  out,  and,  quickly  placing  herself  between  Elsa  and 
the  door  of  the  church,  she  declares  she  will  not  any 
longer  remain  in  the  second  place,  and  that  she  will  re- 
conquer her  station,  which  a  false  judgment  caused  her 
to  lose.  Who  is  he,  this  unknown,  who  has  surprised 
the  confidence  of  all  to  the  detriment  of  a  knight  unani- 
mously esteemed  until  now  ?  Can  he  prove  his  nobility  ? 
Can  he  tell  his  origin,  and  from  what  country  he  comes  ? 
If  he  has  forbidden  her  whom  he  is  espousing  to  ques- 
tion him  upon  this  subject,  it  is  doubtless  because  he  has 
grave  reasons  for  keeping  his  secret.  Elsa  tries  in  vain 
to  stop  this  torrent  of  malevolence;  Ortrude  does  not 
cease  until  the  King's  train  is  seen  approaching. 

Scene  V.  —  The  monarch,  only  having  heard  the  dis- 
turbance from  afar,  demands  the  cause  of  it,  and  the 
bridegroom,  thus  learning  the  blackness  of  Ortrude's  heart, 
sternly  drives  her  away.  After  this  brief  incident  the  pro- 
cession again  forms  and  is  about  to  enter  the  church, 
when  Frederick  in  his  turn  stops  its  progress,  and,  despite 
the  throng  which  wishes  to  ward  him  ofF,  approaches  the 
King  and  presents  the  accusation  which  he  has  prepared 
against  his  adversary:  he  formallv  declares  him  guilty  of 
having  suddenly  surprised  the  public  confidence  at  the 
moment  of  the  combat,  and  says  that  he  wants  to  know 
at  least  the  name  and  origin  of  him  who  has  robbed  him 
of  his  honour.  The  King  and  the  whole  assembly  anx- 
iously await  the  reply  of  the  knight,  who,  whilst  defend- 
ing himself  from  all  charge  of  disloyalty,  refuses  to  reveal 
his  origin  to  Telramund.  There  is  only  one  person  to 
whom  he  will  reply  if  she  asks  it,  and  that  is  Elsa,  who, 
although  greatly  troubled,  will  yet  not  put  the  fatal 
question  ;  but  it  is  evident  that  her  heart  is  disquieted  to  its 


OF    RICHARD    WAGNER  107 

very  depths,  for  the  venom  is  producing  its  effect.  The 
King  and  the  Brabancon  nobles,  for  their  own  part, 
have  no  doubt  of  the  perfect  honour  of  the  Protector  of 
Brabant;  all  the  sympathies  of  the  sovereign  as  well  as  of 
the  people  are  on  his  side.  In  the  meanwhile,  Frederick 
and  Ortrude  apart  watch  their  victim,  Elsa,  and  trace  on 
her  features  the  dangerous  thoughts  to  which  their 
perfidy  has  given  rise  in  her  heart.  Whilst  the  sovereign 
utters  many  noble  words  of  confidence  to  his  protege^ 
the  traitor  stealthily  approaches  the  anxious  and  fright- 
ened Elsa  ;  he  counsels  her,  in  order  to  attach  her  hus- 
band to  her  eternally  and  to  render  herself  mistress  of 
the  charm  which  will  bind  him  forever,  to  consent  to 
accept  his  (Frederick's)  support.  He  tells  her  that  this 
very  night  he  will  be  near  the  nuptial  chamber,  ready  to 
answer  her  first  call.  Elsa's  lover,  surprising  this  odious 
aside,  advances  threateningly  towards  his  enemy,  whose 
dark  schemes  he  divines.  He  drives  him  away,  and 
asks  Elsa,  for  the  last  time,  if  she  has  sufficient  confi- 
dence in  him  never  to  seek  to  know  his  origin  ;  on  her 
passionate  reply  in  the  affirmative,  he  leads  her  to  the 
altar,  accompanied  with  the  good  wishes  of  the  whole 
people.  The  bells  peal,  the  organ  is  heard  in  the  church, 
and  the  bride,  who  at  the  moment  of  entering  has  en- 
countered the  menacing  gaze  of  Ortrude,  passes  through 
the  door  leaning  in  terror  against  her  husband. 

Act    III. 

Scenk  I. — The  first  scene  takes  us  into  the  richly 
decorated  nuptial  chamber.  On  the  right,  near  a  large 
window  open  to  the  gardens,  is  a  very  low  bed.  On 
the  left,  is  a  door  leading  to  the  other  apartments.  At 
the  back  is  another  door  through  which  enters  the  pro- 
cession  accompanying    the   newly-married   pair,  —  Elsa 


io8  THE   MUSIC    DRAMAS 

surrounded  by  her  women,  and  the  Protector  escorted  by 
the  King  and  nobles. 

The  lords  and  ladies  sing  a  chorus,  offering  their  good 
wishes  to  the  young  couple,  and  then  the  King  presents 
Elsa  to  her  husband ;  pages  next  relieve  the  knight  of 
the  rich  mantle  which  covered  his  shoulders,  whilst 
Elsa's  women  also  take  off  the  garment  which  covered 
her  nuptial  robe ;  then  all  present,  after  saluting  the 
bridal  pair,  depart,  continuing  their  songs,  which  die  away 
gradually  in  the  distance. 

Scene  II.  —  Elsa,  overcome  with  sweet  emotion,  falls 
into  the  arms  of  her  lover,  who  leads  her  to  the  couch, 
where  he  holds  her  in  a  tender  embrace.  He  murmurs 
words  of  love  in  her  ear,  and  she  replies  with  ardour  ; 
before  thev  had  met,  their  hearts  had  already  known  and 
understood  each  other.  Had  she  not  already  in  a  dream 
seen  him  on  whom  she  had  called  in  her  distress  to  de- 
fend her  ?  And  at  this  appeal  from  afar  had  he  not 
hastened  to  her,  being  led  by  the  invincible  power  of 
Love  ? 

He  then  passionately  utters  the  name  of  his  well-be- 
loved, who  in  turn  deplores  her  inability  to  pronounce 
the  name  of  the  husband  to  whom  she  has  given  herself 
entirely  ;  why  will  he  not  consent  to  reveal  it  to  her  now, 
when  no  indiscreet  ear  can  overhear  them  ?  He  feigns 
not  to  understand  her  words,  and,  tenderly  embracing 
her,  he  draws  her  to  the  window  to  inhale  the  intoxicat- 
ing perfumes  which  rise  from  the  flowers.  But  Elsa, 
possessed  by  the  fatal  idea  which  was  suggested  by 
Ortrude  and  Frederick,  repeats  her  question,  and  be- 
comes more  insistent  ;  in  vain  her  husband  begs  her  to 
have  that  absolute  confidence  in  him  which  he  had  in 
her,  when,  without  any  proof,  he  believed  in  her  in- 
nocence and   vouched   for  it.      Elsa  insists ;  the   knight, 


OF    RICHARD    WAGNER  iou 

to  calm  her,  assures  her  that  she  has  nothing  to  fear  re- 
garding his  origin,  which  is  even  more  exalted  than  that 
of  the  King,  and  that  the  region  whence  he  comes  is 
glorious  and  splendid. 

These  words  only  excite  in  Elsa  a  fever  of  curiosity, 
which  soon  becomes  a  veritable  delirium  ;  she  thinks 
she  sees  the  swan  coming  to  deprive  her  of  her  hero, 
and  at  the  height  of  agony  and  frenzy,  she  plainly  puts 
the  fatal  questions  which  she  has  taken  an  oath  never  to 
ask.  Even  at  the  forfeit  of  her  life,  she  wants  to  learn 
the  name  of  her  husband,  and  to  know  who  he  is  and 
whence  he  comes. 

Hardly  has  she  uttered  these  words,  which  he  vainly 
tries  to  arrest  on  her  lips,  when  Frederick  and  the  four 
Brabancon  nobles  who  accompany  him  burst  into  the 
room  brandishing  their  weapons.  Elsa,  recovering  her- 
self, rushes  for  her  knight's  sword,  which  he  has  laid  on 
the  couch,  and  gives  it  to  him  ;  he  springs  at  Frederick 
and  with  a  single  blow  stretches  him  dead  at  his  feet. 
The  traitor's  companions,  in  terror,  fall  at  the  feet  of 
the  hero,  whilst  Elsa,  overcome,  faints  in  the  arms  of 
her  husband,  who  sadly  gazes  upon  her.  He  then  orders 
the  four  nobles  to  carry  the  body  of  Telramund  to  the 
King's  tribunal  ;  then,  calling  Elsa's  women,  he  orders 
them  to  robe  their  mistress  and  to  lead  her  before  the 
sovereign,  in  whose  presence  he  will  answer  to  the  in- 
iquitous questions  which  she  has  had  the  fatal  impru- 
dence to  ask  him. 

A  curtain  veils  the  whole  scene.  Trumpets  and 
martial  flourishes  are  heard. 

Scene  III. — When  the  curtain  rises,  the  scene  again 
shows  the  course  of  the  Scheldt,  the  place  where  the 
boat  landed,  the  meadow  and  the  oak;  the  same  setting 
as  the  first  act. 


no  THE    MUSIC    DRAMAS 

The  Brabancon  nobles,  who  have  gathered  to  fight 
under  the  royal  banner,  defile  past,  one  after  the  other, 
followed  by  their  esquires  and  standard-bearers ;  the 
counts  hail  the  arrival  of  King  Henry,  who  thanks 
them  for  their  noble  ardour.  The  arrival  of  the  Pro- 
tector of  Brabant  is  alone  awaited ;  but  suddenly  ex- 
clamations of  terror  are  heard  at  the  sight  of  the  four 
nobles  bearing  the  corpse  of  Telramund  on  a  bier. 
Elsa  follows,  pale  and  trembling,  and  the  King,  who  has 
advanced  to  meet  her,  asking  her  the  cause  of  her 
trouble,  leads  her  to  an  elevated  seat  prepared  for  her, 
and  returns  to  his  place  under  the  oak. 

The  knight  then  appears,  clothed  in  his  silver  mail ; 
he  advances  alone  and  without  escort ;  his  face  is  marked 
with  deep  sadness,  and  he  replies  to  the  sovereign  s 
gracious  welcome  by  expressing  the  grief  he  feels  at  not 
being  able  to  lead  his  troops  to  battle.  He  has  only 
come  to  this  assemblv  to  fulfil  certain  painful  duties; 
first,  to  justify  himself  for  an  act  to  which  he  was 
forced  in  defence  of  his  own  life ;  and  he  relates  the  plot 
by  which  he  nearly  fell  a  victim  to  Telramund.  Was 
he  in  the  right  in  killing  his  enemv,  and  will  his  sovereign 
pardon  him  ?  Henry  reassures  him  on  the  legality  of 
his  act  and  turns  with  horror  from  the  corpse  of  the 
traitor  exposed  to  his  view. 

Then  the  hero,  continuing  his  sad  task,  loudlv  and 
before  everybody  accuses  the  woman  he  loves  of  having 
broken  the  promise  she  solemnly  made  in  this  very 
place,  and  renewed  many  times.  Blinded  by  the  per- 
fidious counsels  of  his  enemies,  she  has  foolishlv  broken 
her  oath,  and,  since  she  exacts  it,  it  shall  be  here,  in  the 
presence  of  all,  that  he  will  reveal  the  redoubtable  secret, 
the  revelation  of  which  can  only  be  made  at  the  cost  of 
the  happiness  of  both. 


OF   RICHARD   WAGNER  in 

In  a  far  and  mysterious  country,  on  a  peak  pure  of  all 
profane  contact,  is  situated,  in  the  heart  of  a  magnificent 
castle,  a  temple  which  has  no  equal  in  any  other  country. 
In  this  temple  is  kept  a  precious  vessel,  which  was  for- 
merly brought  there  by  a  legion  of  angels,  and  which,  in 
its  sacred  shrine,  may  only  have  for  its  guardians  knights 
of  the  purest  and  noblest  nature.  This  vessel  is  en- 
dowed with  a  divine  and  miraculous  power,  which  is 
renewed  once  a  year  by  a  dove,  descending  from  the 
celestial  regions ;    this   vessel   is   the   Holv   Grail. 

Whoever  is  elected  its  guardian  receives  by  that  very 
fact  a  supernatural  power,  but  on  the  express  condition 
that  he  shall  not  allow  his  secret  to  be  penetrated  by 
any  human  being;  for,  if  his  quality  is  once  known,  if  he 
remains  among  mankind,  he  will  be  deprived  of  his 
power  and  influence  ;  so  that  what  obliged  the  hero  so 
rigorously  to  conceal  his  origin  was  that  he  is  one  of  the 
servants  of  the  Grail.  His  father,  Parsifal,1  is  the  prince 
of  these  knights,  to  which  glorious  band  he,  Lohen- 
grin, belongs. 

At  this  name,  now  pronounced  for  the  first  time,  the 
entire  assembly  is  moved  with  respectful  awe ;  Elsa  is 
utterly  overcome  with  her  emotion,  and  Lohengrin,  tak- 
ing her  in  his  arms,  bids  her  a  tender  and  sorrowful  fare- 
well. In  vain  the  wretched  woman,  now  understanding 
the  magnitude  of  her  fault,  tries  to  keep  her  beloved 
husband,  and  offers  to  make  amends  for  her  unfortunate 
curiosity  bv  the  hardest  means  of  expiation  ;  in  vain  also 
the  sovereign  and  the  warriors  pray  the  knight  to 
remain  to  lead  their  arms.  Lohengrin  must  go.  He 
has  already  offended  by  his  protracted  absence  from  the 

1  Like  the  Templars,  the  Knights  of  the  Holy  Grail  took,  the 
vow  of  chastity  and  celibacy.  Only  tluir  Grain!  Master,  their 
Priest-King,  was  excepted,  in  order  to  perpetuate  the  dynasty. 


ii2  THE   MUSIC    DRAMAS 

Grail ;  but,  before  going,  he  wishes  to  leave  a  consola- 
tory promise  with  the  monarch  who  has  received  him 
with  such  noble  confidence,  and  he  announces  that 
German  soil  shall  never  have  to  submit  to  the  shame  of 
a  barbarian  invasion.  Henry's  vassals  owe  this  boon  to 
the  purity  of  their  sovereign. 

Suddenly  a  clamour  is  heard  in  the  direction  of  the 
river-bank.  It  is  caused  by  those  who  see  the  swan 
bringing  again  the  boat,  empty  this  time,  as  it  had  done 
before,  when  it  brought  the  knight.  Lohengrin  goes 
to  it,  and  sadly  gazes  upon  it,  telling  it  how  grieved  he 
is  to  see  it  again  under  such  painful  circumstances,  when 
he  had  thought  to  see  it  one  day  under  happier  skies, 
free  and  liberated  from  the  charm  which  now  holds  it  in 
bonds.  The  by-standers  do  not  catch  the  meaning  of 
his  words. 

Turning  again  to  Elsa,  Lohengrin,  in  great  grief,  tells 
her  how  he  had  hoped  one  day  to  restore  that  brother 
whom  she  thought  lost  forever.  He  is  deprived  of  this 
pleasure  since  he  is  going  away;  but  if  Godfrey  is  ever 
restored  to  her  affection,  she  is  to  give  him,  in  the  name 
of  the  lost  knight,  this  horn,  which  will  be  invaluable  to 
him  in  the  hour  of  danger ;  this  sword,  which  will 
render  him  invincible  ;  and  this  ring,  which  will  remind 
him  of  the  champion  of  the  defenceless.  He  kisses 
Elsa's  brow,  and  she  falls  fainting  into  the  arms  of  her 
women ;  he  then  walks  towards  the  boat,  whilst  all 
present   manifest  deep  sorrow. 

At  this  moment  Ortrude  appears,  giving  every  sign  of 
brutal  joy  ;  addressing  Elsa  she  reveals  that  the  mvNte- 
rious  swan  that  is  taking  the  beloved  hero  away  forever 
is  no  other  than  Godfrey  himself,  whom  she  has  thus 
transformed  by  witchcraft,  and  who  will  now  be  irre- 
vocably lost ;    she  adds  that  if  Lohengrin  had  remained, 


OF    RICHARD    WAGNER  113 

he  would  have  had  the  power  to  deliver  the  youth  and 
restore  the  heir  of  Brabant  to  his  sister's  affection. 

Lohengrin,  who  was  about  to  embark,  halts,  on  hear- 
ing this  fresh  revelation  of  Ortrude's  atrocity.  He  falls 
on  his  knees  on  the  river-bank  and  lifts  up  a  fervent  and 
silent  prayer  to  Heaven.  A  white  dove  is  then  seen 
hovering  above  the  boat ;  it  is  the  dove  of  the  Grail. 
Lohengrin  approaches  the  swan  and  takes  oft"  the  chain 
which  attaches  it  to  the  boat ;  the  swan  dives  and  disap- 
pears, and  in  its  stead  there  appears  a  youth  whom  all 
present  recognize  as  Godfrey,  the  young  Duke  of 
Brabant. 

Lohengrin  then  springs  into  the  boat,  whose  course 
is  immediately  directed  by   the  dove. 

As  they  recede  in  the  distance,  Elsa,  in  a  transport  of 
fugitive  joy,  receives  her  brother  in  her  arms,  and  then 
falls  back  fainting,  seeing  that  her  lover  has  left  her  for- 
ever. Ortrude,  recognizing  that  her  sorceries  have  been 
baffled,  drags  herself  away  in  a  dying  condition,  and 
expires  with  rage,  whilst  the  nobles,  happy  at  the  deliv- 
erance of  their  young  lord,  gather  about  him  with  mani- 
festations of  enthusiastic  delight. 

TRISTAN    UND   ISOLDE 

Isolde,  Princess  of  Ireland,  was  the  affianced  bride  of 
Sir  Morold,  an  Irish  knight,  who  went  to  war  in  Corn- 
wall and  met.  his  death  in  a  combat  with  Tristan,  the 
nephew  of  King  Mark.  The  ungenerous  adversary,  in 
cruel  irony,  sent  the  head  of  his  victim  to  the  princess, 
who  discovered  in  the  deep  wound  a  splinter  of  steel,  left 
by  the  murderer's  weapon. 

But,  in  the  struggle,  Tristan  has  himself  been  hurt  by 
Morold's  poisoned  blade,  and   his  wound  will   not  heal ; 


ii4 


THE    MUSIC    DRAMAS 


TRISTAN    UND    ISOLDE 


CHARACTERS 

in  the  order  of  their 
first  entrance. 

SCENES  : 

ACT 
I. 

ACT 
II. 

ACT 
III. 

I        2 

3 

4 

5 

l 

2 

3 

i 

2    J   3 

A  Young  Sailor  (tenor).     (.Episode.) 

Isolde  (sopr.).   Princess,  somewhat  of  a  sorcer- 
ess, daughter  of  tile  sovereigns  of  Ireland;  was 
betrothed  to  Morold,  whom  Tristan  has  killed  ; 
becomes  the  wife  of  King  Mark.     Loves  Tris- 
tan, at  first  in  secret. 

Brangane  (sopr.).    Isolde's  attendant  and  de- 
voted confidant. 

Kurwenal(bass).    Squire;  an  old  and  faithful 
servant,  devotedly  attached  to  Tristan. 

Tristan   (tenor).      Knight  of    Breton   origin  ; 
nephew    of    King     Mark,    defender     of     the 
throne  of  Cornwall.     Loves  Isolde,  at  first  in 
secret. 

The  Sailors  {Chorus:  tenors,  basses). 

Knights,    Esquires,    Men  -  at  -  Arms 

{Chorus:   tenors,  basses). 

HI 
■ 

a 

■ 

( 

IS. 

■ 

■ 
■ 
■ 

nvis 

a 

■ 

■ 

a 

iWe 

■ 

■ 

a 
a 

) 

a 

a 
a 

a 

a 
a 

a 
■ 
a 

a 
a 

a 
a 

a 

a 
a 

Melot    tenor).     One  of  King  Mark's  knights. 
Tristan's  treacherous  friend.     Loves  Isolde  in 
secret  and  takes  revenge  upon  her. 

King    Mark     (bass).      A   generous     prince 
King  of  Cornwall,  Tristan's  uncle,  and  Isolde's 
husband. 

a 
a 

•• 

a 
a 

A  Shepherd  (tenor).     (Episode.) 
A  Pilot  (bass). 

1 

a 

a 
a 

OF    RICHARD    WAGNER  115 

he  then  remembers  that  the  young  Irish  princess  pos- 
sesses the  secret  of  some  precious  balms  which  alone  can 
cure  his  hurt,  and  he  determines  to  go  to  her  and  request 
the  aid  of  her  knowledge. 

In  a  dying  condition,  he  takes  ship  for  Ireland,  and, 
presenting  himself  incognito  to  Isolde  under  the  name  of 
Tantris,  he  implores  her  assistance.  The  young  princess, 
moved  by  the  sufferings  of  the  dying  man,  devotedly 
tends  him  ;  but  one  day  the  truth  is  unexpectedly  re- 
vealed :  her  lover  must  have  received  his  death-blow  from 
the  sword  of  Tantris,  for  its  blade  contains  a  notch  which 
corresponds  exactly  to  the  fragment  of  steel  found  in 
Morold's  wound. 

Isolde  indignantly  brandishes  the  weapon  over  the 
head  of  the  impostor:  she  is  about  to  strike  the  fatal 
blow,  when  their  eyes  meet.  Tristan's  glance  is  suppli- 
cating, and  Isolde  has  mercy  on  him.  She  conceals 
from  every  one  the  secret  that  she  has  discovered  ;  and 
Tristan  shall  return  to  his  home,  safe  and  well,  and  re- 
lieve the  princess  of  his  hated  presence.  The  knight 
departs,  after  many  protestations  of  his  gratitude  and  de- 
votion ;  but,  oh  treason  !  he  soon  returns  under  his  true 
name  of  Tristan,  and  accompanied  by  a  brilliant  retinue, 
to  demand  the  hand  of  the  maiden  for  his  uncle,  King 
Mark.  Isolde's  parents  accept  this  alliance  for  their 
daughter,  who  in  obedience  must  depart  for  the  realm  of 
her  future  husband  under  the  knight's  escort. 

But  in  secret  she  grieves  bitterly:  for  she  believes  that 
she  is  loved  by  this  hero  whom  she  has  saved  and  who  has 
so  unworthily  betrayed  her;  and  without  acknowledging 
it  even  to  herself,  she  loves  him,  despite  the  blood-stained 
past  which  rises  as  a  barrier  between  them. 

Such  is  the  condition  of  affairs  when  the  curtain  rises 
for  the  first  act. 


no  THE    MUSIC    DRAMAS 

We  will  only  sketch  this,  and  the  two  others,  briefly, 
and  with  bold  outlines.  In  the  poem  of  Tristan  the  situa- 
tions are  simple  and  the  episodes  not  numerous.  The 
whole  interest  of  the  drama  lies  in  the  various  emotions 
of  the  hero  and  heroine.  How  can  we  explain  them 
without  weakening  the  intense  feeling  called  forth  by  the 
representation  ?  Will  it  not  be  better  to  leave  every  one 
to  appreciate  and  feel  it  according  to  his  own  nature, 
than  to  destroy  its  bloom  by  unnecessarily  insisting  upon 
details  which  are  purely  psychological  ? 

Act  I. 

Scene  I.  —  Isolde  is  aboard  the  ship  which  is  bring- 
ing her  to  Cornwall ;  a  tent  made  of  rich  tapestries  has 
been  erected  on  the  deck  and  is  completely  closed  at  the 
back.  The  princess  is  lying  on  a  couch  ;  a  melancholy 
song,  which  a  sailor  is  singing  from  the  mast  above, 
wounds  and  troubles  her,  and  she  gives  way  to  her 
despair  when  she  learns  from  her  attendant,  Brangane, 
that  land  has  been  sighted  and  that  the  voyage  is  nearly 
over. 

Scene  II.  —  She  sends  her  companion  with  an  order 
for  Tristan  to  appear  before  her ;  from  the  beginning  of 
the  voyage  he  has  persistently  avoided  her,  thus  forgetting 
the  deference  which  he  owes  to  his  sovereign.  Brangane 
carries  her  mistress's  order  to  the  knight,  who,  although 
greatly  moved  on  hearing  the  name  Isolde  spoken, 
nevertheless  recovers  himself  and  respectfully,  but  firmly, 
refuses  to  leave  the  helm  of  the  ship  confided  to  his  care. 

Scene  III.  —  Brangane  reports  the  knigbt-'s  reply  to 
her  mistress,  and  Isolde,  now  giving  full  rein  to  her  bit- 
terness, reveals  something  of  her  secret  to  her  companion, 
and  tells  her  of  the  earnest  care  which  she  formerly  be- 


OF    RICHARD    WAGNER  117 

stowed  upon  Tristan,  who  has  so  ill  rewarded  her  com- 
passion for  him.  Hiding  the  true  cause  of  her  grief,  she 
revolts  against  the  idea  of  becoming  the  bride  of  the 
King  of  Cornwall,  whom  she  considers  unworthy  to  be 
united  with  one  whose  brow  may  wear  the  royal  circlet 
of  Ireland. 

Brangane  tries  in  vain  to  calm  her  and  to  justify  the 
conduct  of  Tristan,  who,  according  to  her  ideas,  has 
brilliantly  paid  his  debt  of  gratitude  by  obtaining  for  her 
the  gift  of  so  beautiful  a  kingdom  as  that  of  Cornwall. 
Isolde  is  thoughtful,  and,  talking  to  herself,  deplores  that 
she  is  condemned  to  the  torture  of  living  forever  beside 
an  accomplished  being  whom  she  cannot  inspire  with 
love.  She  is  thinking  of  Tristan;  but  Brangane,  mis- 
interpreting her  words,  advises  her,  if  she  fears  that  King 
Mark  may  not  love  her  as  much  as  she  desires,  to  have 
recourse  to  the  wonderful  philtres  which  her  mother,  the 
Queen  of  Ireland,  gave  her  at  parting.  Among  these  is 
one  which  is  infallible  in  subjecting  all  who  drink  it  to 
the  power  of  love.  Isolde  with  dark  resolve  accepts  her 
attendant's  counsel  and  makes  her  bring  the  precious 
coffer  containing  the  magic  potions.  But  it  is  not  the 
love-philtre  that  she  chooses ;  she  wants  one  still  more 
potent,  and  selects  a  flask  filled  with  the  elixir  of  death  : 
this  she  will  induce  Tristan  to  quaff. 

Sckne  IV.  —  Haste  is  imperative,  for  they  are  near- 
ing  land  :  even  now  they  see  the  flag  of  rejoicing 
floating  above  the  battlements  of  the  roval  castle. 
Kurwenal,  Tristan's  faithful  squire,  comes  to  announce 
that  they  are  entering  port.  Isolde  then  sends  to  ask 
Tristan  for  one  moment's  conversation,  and  orders  the 
terrified  Brangane  to  pour  out  the  fatal  draught  in  a  cup. 
In  vain  her  distracted  attendant  tries  to  turn  her  from 
her  fatal  purpose ;    Isolde    imperiously   commands ;    she 


n8  THE    MUSIC    DRAMAS 

makes  a  violent  effort  to  appear  calm  on  the  arrival  of 
Tristan,  who  respectfully  presents  himself  before  her. 

Scene  V.  —  For  a  long  time  they  look  at  each  other 
in  silence ;  at  last  Isolde,  after  reproaching  him  for 
having  persistently  neglected  her  during  the  voyage, 
reminds  him  that  there  is  a  debt  of  blood  between  them 
which  she  has  not  forgotten  :  she  has  not  yet  pardoned 
the  murder  of  her  lover;  and  since  no  man  has  come 
forward  to  avenge  his  death,  it  is  she  who  must  punish 
the  guilty  one.  Tristan  listens,  pale  and  sombre ;  he 
hands  her  his  sword  and  is  ready  to  die. 

But  no,  says  Isolde  to  him,  she  has  no  right  to  de- 
prive the  King  of  his  most  faithful  supporter,  the  one  to 
whom  he  owes  both  title  and  crown  ;  and,  since  she  has 
already  spared  the  life  of  Morold's  murderer,  she  must 
pardon  him  again.  Let  him  therefore  quaff  the  cup  of 
reconciliation  and  forgetfulness.  Whilst  the  sailors  have 
been  raising  their  cries  of  joy  at  the  approach  of  land, 
Brangane,  trembling  all  over,  has  been  preparing  the 
fatal  philtre.  Isolde  snatches  the  cup  from  her  hands 
and  gives  it  to  Tristan. 

Tristan  has  divined  Isolde's  fell  design,  but  reso- 
lutely receives  the  draught  which  will  deliver  him  from 
the  griefs  with  which  his  heart  also  is  overwhelmed  ;  he 
raises  it  to  his  lips  and  drinks;  but  Isolde  immediately 
snatches  away  the  cup,  drinks  it  to  the  dregs,  and  throws 
it  away. 

Overcome  with  intense  emotion,  thev  gaze  at  each 
other  in  ecstasy  •,  in  the  crisis  of  that  supreme  moment, 
their  eyes  make  no  attempt  to  hide  the  secret  which 
consumes  their  hearts  ;  at  last  they  fall  into  each  other's 
arms  and  remain  locked  in  a  long  embrace,  whilst  Bran- 
gane, distractedly  hovering  about  them,  tries  to  measure 
the  magnitude  of  her  intentional  mistake  :   for  the  elixir 


OF    RICHARD    WAGNER  119 

of  death  she  has  substituted  the  love-potion!  The  two 
lovers,  absorbed  in  each  other,  are  unconscious  of  every- 
thing around  them ;  they  scarcely  notice  the  hustle 
which  tells  of  their  arrival  in  port.  Mechanically  Isolde 
submits  to  be  clothed  with  the  royal  mantle;  Brangane, 
to  recall  her  to  her  ordinary  senses,  now  despairingly 
confesses  how  she  dared  to  make  the  fatal  substitution. 
Tristan  and  Isolde  look  at  each  other  in  wild  distress; 
Isolde  falls  fainting  in  the  arms  of  her  servant,  whilst 
the  entire  crew  joyously  hails  the  arrival  of  the  King  on 
board  the  ship. 

Act  II. 

Scene  I.  —  The  threshold  of  Isolde's  dwelling,  with 
steps  leading  down  into  the  park  planted  with  large 
trees,  over  which  reigns  a  clear  and  radiant  summer 
night.  A  lighted  torch  is  placed  beside  the  door.  In 
the  distance  hunting-horns  are  heard  growing  gradually 
fainter,  to  which  Brangane,  standing  on  the  steps,  lends 
an  attentive  ear.  Isolde,  in  great  agitation,  issues  from 
her  apartment  and  interrogates  her  attendant.  She  im- 
patiently awaits  the  moment  when  the  royal  hunt  shall 
be  far  enough  away  from  the  palace  for  her  to  give  the 
signal  which  will  bring  Tristan  to  her  feet ;  but  Bran- 
gane implores  her  to  be  prudent:  she  has  a  suspicion 
that  a  trap  has  been  set  for  the  two  lovers,  and  in  particu- 
lar suspects  Melot,  who,  from  the  very  hour  when  the 
King  boarded  the  ship  to  receive  his  bride,  suspiciously 
eyed  the  agitation  of  Tristan  and  Isolde,  and  must  have 
discovered  the  cause  of  the  trouble  which  reigned  in  their 
hearts.  Ever  since  then  he  has  played  the  spy,  and  this 
nocturnal  chase,  undertaken  at  his  suggestion,  probably 
covers  some  perfidious  snare.  Despite  the  protestations 
of  the    Queen,  who   has  a  blind  faith    in   the  fidelity  of 


120  THE    MUSIC    DRAMAS 

Melot,  Tristan's  friend  and  confidant,  Brangane  laments 
the  disobedience  which  led  her  to  substitute  the  love- 
philtre  for  the  death-potion  ;  far  better  would  have  been 
a  fatal  and  sudden  end  than  these  cruel  agonies.  She 
bitterly  accuses  herself  of  all  the  evils  which  may  fall 
upon  her  mistress. 

No,  replies  the  latter,  Brangane  is  not  to  be  blamed. 
The  goddess  Minne  1  is  responsible  for  all :  she  it  is  to 
whom  life  and  death  are  subject ;  she  has  transformed 
hatred  into  love ;  Isolde  is  henceforth  her  vassal,  and 
will  blindly  submit  to   her  decrees. 

Notwithstanding  Brangane's  prudent  counsels,  Isolde 
seizes  the  torch  and  extinguishes  it  on  the  ground  :  this 
is  the  appointed  signal  for  Tristan.  Brangane  turns  away 
in  consternation  and  slowly  mounts  the  steps  leading  to 
the  tower. 

Isolde  peers  down  the  avenue,  trying  to  pierce  the 
darkness ;  at  last  her  gestures  show  that  she  sees  her 
lover;   her  emotion  is  at  its  height. 

Scene  II. — Tristan  enters  impetuously;  they  pas- 
sionately rush  into  each  other's  arms;  their  hearts  over- 
flow with  love  and  rapture  ;  they  curse  the  light  of  day, 
which  has  always  antagonized  their  happiness  :  was  it 
not  day  that  led  Tristan  to  Ireland  to  demand  Isolde  for 
King  Mark  ?  Was  it  not  also  day,  which,  shedding  a 
false  light  on  the  knight,  caused  him  to  be  hated  by  her 
who  now  cherishes  him  with  her  whole  heart  ?  Ah,  why 
cannot  these  lovers  shroud  themselves  forever  in  the 
sweet  twilight  of  night  and  death  that  should  indissohibly 
unite  their  souls  and  their  destinies  !  They  sit  upon  a 
flowery  bank  and  remain  locked  in  a  long  embrace,  call- 
ing for  death  which  they  so  ardently  desire. 

1   Minne  personifies  love.      She  is  the  protectress  of  lovers. 


OF    RICHARD    WAGNER  121 

Absorbed  in  this  ecstasy,  they  take  no  heed  of  the  fly- 
ing hours  and  lose  all  count  of  time.  Brangane,  who  is 
keeping  watch  above,  warns  them  that  the  dreaded  day 
is  breaking  and  bringing  danger  with  it.  Twice,  while 
engrossed  with  each  other,  she  breaks  in  upon  them  ; 
then  suddenly  gives  a  piercing  cry  of  alarm,  and,  at  the 
same  moment,  the  brave  and  devoted  Kurwenal  rushes  in 
backwards,  brandishing  his  sword. 

Scene  III. — Behind  him  Melot  and  King  Mark,  fol- 
lowed by  several  courtiers,  press  tumultuously  forward 
and  halt  before  the  couple,  intently  regarding  them  with 
various  expressions.  Brangane  has  run  to  her  mistress, 
who  has  turned  away  and  before  whom  Tristan  with  an 
instinctive  movement,  has  spread  his  mantle  to  shield  her 
from  the  gaze  of  the  intruders. 

Melot  boasts  to  the  King,  who  stands  stupefied  with 
grief,  of  the  great  service  he  has  rendered  him,  and  for 
which  the  King  has  not  had  the  grace  to  thank  him. 
He  is  too  deeply  distressed  at  the  terrible  discovery  he 
has  just  made.  This  Tristan,  whom  he  regarded  as  the 
soul  of  honour  and  virtue,  who  was  the  hope  of  his  de- 
clining years,  for  whose  sake,  until  now,  he  had  refused 
to  take  a  second  wife,  since  the  death  of  the  first,  so  as 
to  leave  him  his  sole  heir,  —  it  is  he,  this  perfidious 
nephew,  who  brought  him  the  marvellous  bcautv  whom, 
in  his  adoration,  the  generous  King  has  respected  as  if  he 
were  her  father;  he  it  is,  who,  after  having  made  his  heart 
more  sensitive  to  grief  by  the  possession  of  this  treasure, 
ends  by  giving  him  this  mortal  wound,  and.  pours  into 
his  soul  the  cruel  poison  of  suspicion  against  her  whom 
he  loves  best  in  all  the  world.  Why  has  he  cast  him 
into  this  hell  from  which  nothing  can  again  release  him? 

Tristan,  who   has   listened   to   the  reproaches  of  this 
noble   prince  with   ever-increasing  sorrow,  casts  a   look 


122  THE    MUSIC    DRAMAS 

of  deep  pity  upon  him;  his  secret  he  cannot  tell ;  none 
shall  ever  learn  it.  Then,  turning  to  Isolde,  who  looks 
at  him  with  yearning  eyes,  he  tells  her  that  he  will  set 
out  for  that  dreary  country  where  his  mother  gave  birth 
to  him  in  sorrow  and  death.  There  his  well-beloved 
may  find  an  asylum,  if  she  wishes  to  follow  him  to  his 
sad  retreat.  Isolde  replies  that  nothing  shall  prevent 
her  from  following  him,  he  has  only  to  show  her  the 
way ;  her  lover  softly  kisses  her  brow ;  but  at  this 
point,  Melot,  boiling  with  rage,  draws  his  sword  and 
attacks  Tristan,  who  places  himself  on  guard.  Their 
swords  cross,  and  Tristan  sinks,  wounded  bv  his  enemy. 
He  falls  into  KurwenaPs  arms,  as  Isolde  throws  herself, 
weeping,  upon  his  breast. 

Act    III. 

Scene  I. — The  scene  represents  the  wild  and  desolate 
garden  of  Tristan's  old  manor,  Kareol,  situated  in  Brit- 
tany, upon  an  eminence  beside  the  sea.  Far  awav  the 
horizon  line  is  visible  above  the  walls,  which  are  half  in 
ruins  and  covered  with  vegetation.  At  the  back  is  the 
gate  of  a  feudal  castle  with  loop-holes.  In  the  centre  of 
the  stage,  under  the  shadow  of  a  lime-tree,  is  the  bed  on 
which  Tristan  lies. 

The  unfortunate  man  is  dying  of  the  wound  which  the 
traitor  Melot  gave  him  ;  his  faithful  Kurwenal  has  brought 
him  in  a  bark  here,  to  the  domain  of  his  ancestors,  in  a 
dying  condition,  and  battles  with  death  for  him,  impatiently 
awaiting  the  arrival  of  Isolde,  for  whom  he  has  de- 
spatched a  faithful  servant  to  Cornwall.  A  shepherd, 
who  has  been  placed  on  the  look-out  at  the  top  of  the 
cliff  to  signal  the  coming  of  the  ship  that  is  bringing  Isolde 
the  moment  it  appears  on  the  horizon,  plays  upon  his 
pipe  a  sad  and  plaintive  melody,  which   will  be  changed 


OF    RICHARD    WAGNER  123 

for  joyful  notes  when  the  longed-for  sail  appears  in  the 
offing. 

At  the  raising  of  the  curtain,  he  has  left  his  post  of 
observation  for  a  moment,  and  has  come  to  inquire  for 
particulars  about  his  master ;  what  mysterious  and  fatal 
adventure  has  brought  him  to  this  sad  state  ?  Kurwenal  re- 
fuses to  reply,  and  sends  him  back  again  to  watch  the  lonely 
horizon,  on  which  no  vessel  is  yet  visible.  The  shep- 
herd resumes  his  melancholy  music,  whose  rhythms  rouse 
the  sufferer  from  his  deadly  torpor.  At  first  he  does 
not  recognize  his  surroundings ;  the  good  Kurwenal 
helps  him  to  collect  his  thoughts  ;  but  the  sole  idea  that 
his  mind  clearly  grasps  is  that  of  Isolde.  His  love 
again  takes  complete  possession  of  him,  he  calls  dis- 
tractedly for  his  well-beloved,  and  life  burns  with 
temporary  strength  when  his  faithful  servant  promises 
him  the  early  arrival  of  his  adored  one.  In  his  fever  he 
sees  all  his  sad  life  pass  before  his  eyes;  his  unhappy 
vouth,  his  unlucky  voyage  to  Ireland,  and  the  fateful 
potion  —  the  manifest  cause  of  all  his  misfortunes.  His 
excitement  constantly  increases,  but  his  strength  fails 
him,  and  he  falls  back  fainting.  The  frightened  Kur- 
wenal revives  him  with  difficulty.  Why  does  not  the 
ship  arrive  and  bring  joy  and  healing  ? 

Sckne  II.  —  Suddenly  a  jovous  melodv  is  heard;  it 
is  the  signal  agreed  on  to  announce  the  good  news. 
Kurwenal,  who,  at  Tristan's  request,  has  mounted  to  the 
top  of  the  tower,  already  sees  the  flag  of  joyfulness  flut- 
tering among  the  sails.  Isolde  is  coming  ;  the  ship  has 
passed  the  dreaded  headland  and  is  entering  the  port. 
The  dearlv-beloved  makes  signals,  she  springs  to  shore, 
and  Kurwenal  goes  to  welcome  her,  leaving  Tristan  a 
prey  to  the  greatest  excitement.  The  wounded  man, 
thinking  that   he   can   henceforth   defy  death,  springs  to 


124  THE    MUSIC    DRAMAS 

meet  his  love ;  but  he  has  over-estimated  his  strength  : 
it  tails  him,  and  he  falls  dying  into  the  arms  of  his 
adored  one. 

Death,  once  invoked  with  such  ardour,  has  at  last 
heard  the  call;  night,  the  blessed  adversary  of  hostile 
day,  shrouds  him  in  her  veil.  Kneeling  beside  him, 
Isolde  gently  winds  her  arms  around  him  and  entreats 
him  to  let  her  cure  his  deep  wound,  and  to  live  if  onlv  for 
an  hour;  but,  seeing  him  forever  deaf  to  her  voice,  she 
falls  dying  upon  the  bodv  of  him  she  has  so  dearly  loved. 

Scene  III.  —  Kurwenal,  mute  with  grief,  has  been 
present  at  this  heart-rending  scene;  his  glance- never 
wanders  from  Tristan.  At  this  moment  a  clash  of  arms 
is  heard ;  the  shepherd  runs  in  to  announce  that  a 
second  ship  has  just  entered  port.  Great  confusion  fol- 
lows ;  Kurwenal,  thinking  this  a  hostile  invasion  on  the 
part  of  King  Mark,  rushes  upon  Melot,  who  is  one  of 
the  first  to  enter,  and  kills  him.  He  is,  himself,  mor- 
tally wounded  in  the  fight,  and  returns  to  die  beside  the 
body  of  his  beloved  master.  And  yet  what  a  mis- 
take he  made !  The  noble  and  magnanimous  King, 
informed  too  late,  alas  !  by  Brangane  of  the  disastrous 
effects  of  the  philtre,  and  convinced  that  Fate  was  alone 
to  blame  for  the  treachery  of  the  two  beings  whom  he 
so  dearly  loved,  had  come  to  bring  them  his  pardon  and 
to  unite  them  forever.  He  gently  reproaches  Isolde  for 
not  having  confided  in  him;  he  has  been  so  happy  at 
discovering  the  innocence  of  his  dearest  friend  !  The 
unhappy  woman  does  not  understand ;  with  wild  eyes 
she  gazes  on  the  mortal  remains  of  TristaYi,  but  her  soul  is 
alreadv  taking  its  flight,  and,  transfigured  by  the  kind  hand 
of  death,  she  expires"  in  her  faithful  Brangane's  arms. 

King  Mark  blesses  the  dead  amidst  the  deep  emotion 
of  all  present. 


DIE   MEISTERSINGER 


■v 

A,7 

act  at 

■.*.«*,  fa*!* 

lit 

■'■  2 

..»,., 

..  j.  ^ 

The  Congregation  of  the  Faithful  (Ourrus:  sopr.,  contr.,  ten,,  basses). 

Walter  von  Stolzing  ■  -\     V-m.-j:  1  ranconian  fcnight.poet  and  musician  of  talent; 

■■■ 

■ 

.■■ 

Eva  (sopr.).     Pogner's  daughter;  die  precious  reward  promised  to  the  victor  in  the  contest. 

..■■.■■■a 

.■■ 

Magdalene  (sopr. ).    Eva's  nurse,  confidante,  and  servant ;  engaged  to  the  young  apprentice, 

■■■■■■ 

.■■ 

David  (tenor).     Sachs's  pupil  and  apprentice;  Magdalene's  lover. 

!■■ 

■■■....■■ 

■ 

.■■ 

The  Apprentices  {Chorus  :  contr, .  ten.  i     Band  r.f  students,  always  disposed  to  mischief; 

■  ■ 

■ ■ 

'Fogner  (bass).     Goldsmith;   citizen  of  Nuremberg  and  Metstemnger.      Father  of  Eva. 

■ ■■ 

'A 

a 
a 

Beckmesser  (baryt.).     Toivn  clerk:    an  absurd  and  disagreeable  character,  pedantic  and 
Hans  Sachs  (bass).     Shoemaker  and  popular  pm 

__ 

■    ■ 

- 
- 

Vogelgesang  (tenor).     Furrier     Member  of  the  Corporation  of  the  Meistersinger. 

■■ 

Nachtigal  (bass).    Tinsmith.                 "                »                "                " 

■■ 

Kothner  (bass).     Baker.                            "                  "                  "                  " 
Ortel  (bass).     Soapmaker.                          "                  "                  "                  ■ 

3 

Zorn  (tenor),     Peirterer.                                "                    "                    "                    " 

....  ■ 

a 

Moser  (tenor).    Tailor.                              "                  '*                  "                  " 
Eisslinger  (tenor).     Grocer.                       "                    *'                    "                    u 
Folt2  (bass).    Braaier.                                u                  "                  -                 " 

■ 

..... 

Schwartz  (bass)     Stocking-weaver         "                  "                  "                  " 

■ 

The  Night- Watchman  (bass).    A  comic  character  (episode). 

■■•■ 

Neighbours  {Chorus:  sopr.). 
CompanionB  (Chorus;  ten.,  basses). 
Old  Citizens  (Clients:  basses). 

The  Shoemakers  (Chorus:  ten,, basses). 
The  Tailors  (Chorus;  ten.,  basses). 

The  Bakers  (Chorus:  ten.,  basses). 

1 

1 

OF    RICHARD    WAGNER  125 


DIE    MEISTERSINGER 

I  think  it  well  to  give  a  less  detailed  analysis  of  the 
poem  of  Die  Meistersinger  than  of  the  dramas,  because, 
even  at  the  first  hearing,  there  is  much  less  on  which 
the   spectator  needs   to   be    informed. 

It  is  a  comedy  full  of  wit  and  tender  emotion  ;  and  if 
ignorance  of  the  German  language  prevents  our  com- 
prehension of  the  numerous  jests  and  witticisms,  yet  the 
gay  and  light-hearted  character  of  the  music  and  the 
suggestive  gestures  of  the  actors  make  it  almost  as  easy 
to  understand  as  if  it  were  merely  a  pantomime. 

The  essential  thing  is  to  form  a  clear  idea  of  the 
principal  characters:  Sachs  is  the  type  of  kindness,  up- 
rightness and  good  sense;  Beckmesser,  his  antithesis,  is 
the  ridiculous  and  malicious  pedant ;  Pogner  thinks  it  a 
sublime  idea  to  set  his  daughter  up  for  competition-, 
David  is  a  gay  companion;  Magdalene  a  fine  servant;  and 
Walter  and  Eva  are  lovers  of  a  highly  poetic  nature. 

The  Meistersinger  are  not  in  the  least  grotesque  in 
themselves,  because  of  their  serious  conviction  :  they  are 
good  and  honest  citizens  who  have  appointed  themselves 
conservators  of  the  art  of  singing,  and  are  very  rigid  with 
regard  to  the  observance  of  traditional  rules,  from  which 
they  will  not  allow  any  deviation. 

All  their  names  are  strictly  historic,  as  is  e\  ident  from 
a  document  published  at  Altdorf  in  1697,  by  J.  Chris- 
topher Wagenseil ;  we  also  learn  from  it  that  the  meet- 
ing of  the  Meistersinger  took  place  after  the  noonday 
service  in  the  church  of  Saint  Katharine,  which  is  now 
closed.  The  odd  names  of  the  various  modes  and  the 
rules  of  tablature  also  appear  in  the  same  work,  which  is 
extremely  scarce. 


»26  THE   MUSIC    DRAMAS 

But  there  were  four  markers ;  Wagner  had  to  com- 
bine them  into  one  to  form  the  mirth-provoking  and  ill- 
natured  character  of  Beckmesser,  around  whom  the 
whole  play  revolves. 

Act  I. 

Scene  I.  —  The  action  takes  place  in  Nuremberg,  at 
the  beginning  of  the  1 6th  century.  The  first  scene 
occurs  in  the  church  of  Saint  Katharine  ;  the  scenery 
shows  the  church  viewed  from  one  side  with  only  the 
last  seats  visible  of  the  nave,  which  runs  towards  the 
left. 

The  worshippers  are  just  finishing  the  chanting  of  a 
psalm.  Two  women,  sitting  in  the  last  row,  have 
attracted  the  attention  of  a  young  noble,  the  knight 
Walter  von  Stolzing,  who,  leaning  against  a  pillar,  can- 
not take  his  eyes  off  the  younger  of  them,  Eva,  the 
daughter  of  Veit  Pogner,  goldsmith  and  citizen  of 
Nuremberg. 

Walter  makes  a  mute  but  eloquent  appeal  to  the 
maiden,  who  timidly  responds  with  a  discreet,  but  some- 
what confused  gesture. 

The  service  ended,  the  church  slowly  empties,  and 
the  knight  approaches  the  woman  he  loves.  The  inno- 
cent maiden,  notwithstanding  her  guilelessness,  would 
not  be  sorry  to  manage  a  tete-a-tete  with  the  handsome 
knight ;  with  a  charming  ingenuousness  she  pretends  to 
have  left  her  fichu  in  her  seat  in  the  church,  and  sends 
her  nurse  to  fetch  it.  Meanwhile  Walter  begs  her  to 
decide  his  fate  and  pronounce  the  word  which  will 
encourage  his  hopes;  since  his  arrival  in  Nuremberg, 
where  he  was  received  with  such  cordial  hospitality  by 
Pogner,  Eva's  father,  he  has  loved  the  maiden,  and 
aspires  to  be  her  betrothed,  if  perchance  she  is  free. 


OF    RICHARD    WAGNER  127 

Meantime  the  nurse  has  returned,  and,  to  prolong  the 
conversation,  Eva  again  sends  her  in  search  of  a  brooch, 
which  has  probably  fallen  on  the  way.  The  tete-a-tete 
continues  as  the  two  lovers  could  wish,  for  Magdalene, 
in  her  turn,  has  forgotten  her  psalter  and  goes  away  a 
third  time.  When  she  returns  and  sees  the  knight,  she 
gratefully  thanks  him  for  having  taken  care  of  Eva  in 
her  absence  and  invites  him  to  come  and  see  Master 
Pogner  again.  Was  he  not  well  received  on  his  arrival 
in  Nuremberg,  that  they  do  not  see  him  any  more? 
But  the  young  man  deplores  that  fatal  visit  to  the  gold- 
smith's house,  for  since  he  first  saw  Eva  he  has  known 
no  rest.  The  nurse  cries  out  at  this  declaration,  made  in 
a  loud  voice  in  the  open  church,  as  being  likely  to  com- 
promise Eva  ;  she  wants  to  go,  but  Eva  detains  her:  she 
does  not  know  how  to  answer  Walter's  question  if  she 
is  betrothed,  and  desires  her  companion  to  answer  for 
her.  Magdalene,  disturbed  for  a  moment  by  the  sight  of 
her  lover,  the  apprentice  David,  who  comes  out  of  the 
sacristv,  then  explains  to  Walter  that  Eva  is  promised 
—  without  exactly  being  so:  the  goldsmith,  Pogner, 
has  determined  to  offer  his  daughter  as  a  reward  to  the 
victor  in  the  competition  which  is  about  to  be  held  bv 
the  Meistei  singer  of  Nuremberg.  No  one,  therefore,  yet 
knows  the  happy  man,  whom,  moreover,  Eva  will  be  free 
to  refuse  if  he  is  displeasing  to  her. 

The  maiden  relies  particularly  upon  this  last  point  of 
her  nurse's  story,  and  whilst  Walter,  strongly  excited, 
strides  up  and  down,  she  tells  her  that  she  positively 
must  have  the  knight.  At  first  sight  she  felt  she 
belonged  to  him;  besides  is  he  not  like  David?  — 
"  Like  David  ?  "  cries  the  nurse  in  amazement,  thinking 
of  her  own  lover. —  "  Yes,"  replies  Eva  ;  "  King  David; 
not  the  one  we  see  on  the  banner  of  the  Meistersinger, 


128  THE    MUSIC    DRAMAS 

but  the  David  painted  by  Diirer  and  represented  by  the 
artist  with  the  sword  by  his  side,  the  sling  in  his  hand, 
and  his  head  with  an  aureole  of  golden  curls."  An 
amusing  passage  of  complicated  cross-purposes. 

The  name  David,  repeated  several  times,  attracts  the 
attention  of  that  Apprentice,  who  is  going  and  coming, 
making  preparations  for  the  meeting  which  will  shortly 
take  place  in  the  sacred  edifice  itself.  At  this  meeting 
for  the  presentation  of  candidates,  the  Apprentice  who 
does  not  fail  in  the  rules  of  tablature  is  to  receive  his 
freedom  and  to  be  appointed  a  Master.  The  knight 
therefore  comes  just  at  the  right  time,  replies  Magda- 
lene. She  confides  the  young  noble  to  David's  care  to 
be  initiated.  The  latter  is  Hans  Sachs's  pupil,  in  sing- 
ing as  in  shoemaking,  and  he  has  long  been  studying  in 
hopes  of  one  day  obtaining  the  Mastership  :  he,  therefore, 
will  give  the  knight  complete  instructions  regarding  the 
difficulties  to  be  conquered  for  the  morrow's  meeting, 
and  also  for  the  preparatory  test,  which  will  take  place 
immediately.      The  two  women  then   go   home. 

Scene  II.  —  The  first  thing  necessary,  David  explains, 
is  to  mount  the  first  step  and  to  obtain  letters  of  freedom. 
But  the  degree  of  Meistersinger  is  not  to  be  gained  so 
easily.  There  are  several  grades  to  conquer  first.  He 
must  recognize  and  sing  the  tones  and  melodies  without 
hesitation  in  order  to  become  a  singer.  And  David,  in  a 
long  enumeration,  recites  to  Walter  all  the  titles,  some- 
times burlesque  ones,  of  the  modes  with  which  he  must 
familiarize  himself:  the  short,  the  long,  the  slow,  the 
fragrant  hawthorn,  the  tortoise,  the  cinnamon  stalk,  the 
calf,  the  frog,  the  faithful  pelican,  etc.  Then  he  must 
compose  words  adapted  to  one  of  the  well-known  modes; 
and  this  will  entitle  him  to  the  grade  of  poet. 

Lastly  comes  the  third  and  most   formidable   test :   the 


OF    RICHARD    WAGNER  129 

composition  of  a  complete  work,  poem  and  music,  in 
which  the  judge  cannot  allow  more  than  seven  infrac- 
tions of  the  established  rules.  If  Walter  triumphs  over 
the  last  difficulty,  all  honour  to  him  ;  he  will  receive  the 
victor's  crown  of  flowers  and  will  be  proclaimed  Meister- 
singer. 

The  Apprentices,  who  during  this  whole  scene  have 
not  ceased,  whilst  getting  the  place  ready,  to  torment  and 
interrupt  David,  have  finally  brought  into  the  centre  of 
the  stage  a  platform  surrounded  by  black  curtains  ;  then 
thev  place  a  chair,  a  desk,  and  a  slate  to  which  a  piece 
of  chalk  is  suspended  at  the  end  of  a  string.  They  join 
David  in  wishing  the  candidate  good  luck,  jesting  with 
him,  and  dancing  around  him  ;  then  they  respectfully  re- 
tire on  seeing  the  Meistersinger  arrive  one  after  the 
other. 

Scene  III.  —  Beckmesser,  one  of  the  members  of  the 
corporation,  a  ridiculous  and  crabbed  character,  accom- 
panies Veit  Pogner,  and  is  insisting  on  his  granting  him 
the  hand  of  Eva,  for  whom  he  has  a  great  desire,  but 
whose  love  he  does  not  think  he  possesses.  The  gold- 
smith promises  him  his  good  will,  without,  however, 
binding  himself  to  anything,  which  does  not  satisfy  the 
grotesque  personage,  who  is  uneasy  regarding  the  success 
of  his  suit ;  he  therefore  regards  every  fresh  face  with 
hostility  and  eyes  Walter  malevolently  as  the  young 
knight  approaches  Pogner,  who  is  astonished  to  see  him 
at  the  assembly,  and  tells  him  that  he  wishes  to  undergo 
the  trial  and  have  himself  immediately  received  as  a 
member  of  the  company.  Pogner,  on  the  contrary,  is 
delighted  with  this  idea  and  promises  the  knight  his  cor- 
dial support. 

The  assembly  is  now  complete,  Hans  Sachs  having 
just    arrived;    one    of  the    Meistersinger    calls   the   roll, 

9 


130  THE    MUSIC    DRAMAS 

which  affords  occasion  in  the  German  text  for  a  series 
of  more  or  less  witty  jokes  and  jests,  the  sense  of  which 
is  lost  in  translation. 

Pogner  then  begins  to  speak,  reminding  them  of  the 
importance  of  the  festival  which  is  to  bring  them  together 
on  the  morrow,  Saint  John's  Day.  There  will  be  prizes 
for  the  victors  in  the  Song-Contest,  and  Pogner  himself, 
being  anxious  to  refute  the  charge  of  avarice,  which  is 
made  against  the  citizens  throughout  Germany,  and  wish- 
ing to  prove  that  he  places  nothing  above  art,  has  de- 
cided that  what  he  will  offer  as  a  prize  to  the  conqueror 
shall  be  his  most  precious  treasure,  his  only  daughter, 
Eva,  with  all  that  she  possesses.  Only  one  restriction 
accompanies  this  offer:  Eva  will  be  free  to  refuse  the 
conqueror  if  he  is  not  pleasing  to  her;  but  she  will, 
nevertheless,  not  be  allowed  to  choose  a  husband  outside 
of  the  corporation  of  the  Meistersinger. 

This  speech  of  Pogner's  occasions  much  discussion, 
accompanied  by  noisy  acclamations  from  the  Apprentices, 
who  are  happy  at  any  uproarious  manifestations.  Some 
approve  the  goldsmith,  others  criticise  his  idea  :  amongst 
the  latter  is  Beckmesser,  who,  thinking  himself  sure  of 
victory,  recognizes  how  unfavourably  this  last  condition 
will  affect  him.  Hans  Sachs  proposes  to  add  the  popular 
voice  to  the  judgment  of  the  Meistersinger,  feeling'  cer- 
tain in  his  simple  good  sense  that  it  will  give  good  ad- 
vice and  find  itself  naturally  in  accord  with  the  maiden's 
feelings  ;  the  Apprentices  noisily  applaud  this  motion, 
but  several  of  the  Meistersinger  oppose  the  idea,  as  they 
are  unwilling  to  let  the  common  people  join  in  their  af- 
fairs. The  goldsmith,  having  explained  to  Sachs  how 
many  complications  would  be  caused  by  this  new  clause, 
he  abandons  it  with  his  characteristic  good-nature.  A 
little  skirmish  then  occurs  between  the  cobbler  and  Beck- 


OF  RICHARD    WAGNER  131 

messer;  the  latter,  having  undertaken  to  ridicule  the  ex- 
cellent Hans,  hears  him  say  that  they  arc  both  too  old  to 
aspire  to  the  hand  of  the  maiden,  which  greatly  annoys 
that  grotesque  person. 

At  last  the  excitement  calms  down,  and  Pogner  pre- 
sents the  young  knight,  whose  nobility  and  honourable 
character  he  guarantees,  to  his  colleagues,  telling  them 
he  asks  to  undergo  the  test  for  the  Mastership.  Beck- 
messer,  anxious  to  create  difficulties  for  him  whose 
rivalry  he  foresees,  tries  to  adjourn  the  examination  ;  but 
the  Meistersinger  outvote  him  and  prepare  to  hear  the 
candidate,  first  asking  him  the  name  of  the  teacher  who 
gave  him  the  precious  lessons. 

Walter  says  he  has  studied  poetry  in  the  silence  of  the 
long  winter  evenings,  by  reading  over  a  hundred  times 
the  ponderous  tome  of  one  of  the  most  celebrated  Minne- 
singer of  Germany ;  and  therefore  this  old  master 
taught  him  the  art  of  poetry.  As  for  music,  he  learnt 
that  in  listening  to  the  birds  singing  in  the  woods,  when 
early  in  the  year  Nature,  freed  from  her  frosts,  awake? 
at  the  balmy  breath  of  spring. 

At  these  words,  the  discussion  is  renewed.  Some, 
headed  by  Beckmesser,  who  has  been  sneering  all  the 
while  the  knight  has  been  speaking,  declare  Walter's 
pretensions  absurd;  others,  with  larger  ideas  of  art,  such 
as  Vogelsang,  Pogner,  and  Sachs,  form  a  better  opinion 
of  the  young  candidate,  and  induce  the  corporation 
to  hear  him.  Walter  accepts  the  examination,  and, 
to  gain  the  precious  reward  to  which  he  aspires,  he  will 
attempt  to  express  in  poetry  and  melodv  the  memories  of 
his  childhood  ;  he  will  sing  under  the  inspiration  of  the 
Love  in  which  he  has  placed  all  his  hopes.  Beckmesser 
is  appointed  marker:  he  is  shut  up  in  the  chair  sur- 
rounded by  curtains,  which  the  Apprentices  brought  in 


1 32  THE    MUSIC    DRAMAS 

a  while  ago,  to  write  down  the  aspirant's  mistakes  on  the 
slate;  he  installs  himself  in  his  tribunal,  after  having 
wished  his  rival  good  luck,  accompanying  this  wish  with 
an  ironical  and  malicious  grimace. 

Walter  collects  his  thoughts  for  a  moment,  while  one 
of  the  Meistersinger,  Kothner,  who  has  made  one  of 
the  Apprentices  bring  him  a  large  placard  hanging 
against  the  wall,  reads  to  him  the  rules  of  tablature 
which  he  will  have  to  observe  if  he  wishes  to  be  received ; 
he  then  gets  up  into  the  seat  reserved  for  the  candidates, 
and,  after  having  evoked  the  gracious  image  of  Eva  to 
give  him  courage,  he  sings  the  first  strophe  of  his  musi- 
cal poem,  which  is  a  hymn  to  Nature,  to  Spring,  and 
to   Love. 

While  he  is  singing  the  first  couplet,  Beckmesser  is 
heard  stirring  about  in  his  box,  angrily  marking  the  mis- 
takes on  his  slate.  The  knight,  disturbed  for  a  moment, 
recovers  himself,  and  continues  the  second  strophe,  but 
the  town-clerk,  without  giving  him  time  to  begin  the 
third,  opens  the  curtains  and  announces  with  a  rasping 
voice  that  the  number  of  errors  allowed  is  already  far 
exceeded,  that  he  has  failed  and  must  retire.  He  then 
shows  the  assembly  the  slate  so  thickly  scored  with  big 
chalk  marks  that  every  one  bursts  out  laughing.  The 
discussion  then  recommences  more  vehemently  than 
ever;  the  jealous  town-clerk,  now  triumphant,  harangues 
his  companions,  mocking  the  young  knight's  unfortunate 
efforts,  and  rallying  to  his  side  all  the  old  Meistersinger, 
who  are  slaves  to  routine,  and  cannot  understand  what 
fresh  poetry  breathes  in  Walter's  song ;  on  the  other 
hand,  the  knight's  partisans,  Pogncr  and  Sachs,  defend 
the  new  form  which  he  has  adopted  ;  Sachs  claims  for 
his  protege  the  right  of,  at  least,  being  heard  to  the  end ; 
according  to  their  rules  he   has  the  right  of  completing 


OF    RICHARD    WAGNER  133 

his  trial ;  and,  besides,  adds  the  poet-cobbler,  is  it  just 
that  he  should  be  judged  by  one  who  is  his  rival  in 
love  ?  At  these  words  Beckmesser's  rage  is  beyond 
all  bounds.  In  vain  Pogner  tries  to  calm  the  general 
uproar:  the  majority  of  the  Meistersinger  side  against 
Walter,  who  is  greatly  disheartened,  and  whose  only 
defender  is  the  benevolent  Sachs,  whose  artistic  soul 
sympathizes  with  that   of  the  young  man. 

Beckmesser  renews  his  campaign  of  abuse  with  fresh 
bitterness  ;  they  all  take  his  part,  and,  in  the  midst  of  a 
general  tumult,  Walter,  again  taking  his  place,  begins  his 
third  and  last  strophe,  in  which  in  the  heat  of  despera- 
tion, he  caustically   criticises  his  persecutors. 

The  good  Sachs  admires  the  knight's  courageous  atti- 
tude ;  but  it  only  serves  still  further  to  increase  the  dis- 
pleasure of  the  obstinate  townsmen,  who  unanimously 
decide  that  he  has  failed,  failed  without  appeal.  They 
all  excitedly  disperse.  The  Apprentices,  mingling  with 
the  Meistersinger,  add  still  more  to  the  confusion  and 
disorder.  They  again  form  a  wild  ring  around  the 
marker's  box,  and  try  to  bring  Sachs  into  their  dance;  he 
is  left  alone  and  makes  an  expressive  gesture,  eloquent 
of  his  discomfiture  and  discouragement.  Then  they  all 
disperse. 

Act    II. 

Scene  I.  —  The  stage  represents  a  street  scene  in 
Nuremberg,  intersected  in  the  middle  by  a  narrow  lane. 
The  corner  which  it  forms  on  the  right  is  occupied  by 
Pogner's  house,  a  rich  citizen's  dwelling,  which  is 
approached  by  several  steps;  above  the  steps  is  an  arched 
doorway  with  stone  scats.  In  the  front  of  the  house  is 
a  lime-tree  surrounded  by  shrubs,  and  under  the  lime-tree 
is  a  bench.     The  corner  on  the  left  is  formed  by  the 


134  THE    MUSIC    DRAMAS 

more  modest  dwelling  of  Hans  Sachs ;  the  door  of  his 
cobbler's  shop  is  horizontally  divided  in  two  parts,  it 
opens  directly  into  the  street,  and  is  shaded  by  a  thick 
elder-tree.  On  the  side  towards  the  lane  the  house  has 
two  windows,  the  first  of  which  belongs  to  the  shop,  and 
the  second  to  the  room  of  the  Apprentice  David. 

The  act  passes  during  a  beautiful  summer  evening  ; 
the  night  is  slowly  falling.  David  and  other  Apprentices 
are  putting  up  the  shutters  of  their  masters'  shops,  whilst 
singing  and  celebrating  in  advance  the  festival  of  Saint 
John,  which  will  take  place  on  the  morrow.  The 
scamps  are  teasing  their  comrade  David  by  trying  to  imi- 
tate the  voice  of  Magdalene,  who  noiselessly  issues  from 
the  goldsmith's  house,  with  a  basket  on  her  arm,  and  in 
a  low  voice  calls  her  lover,  for  whom  she  has  some  dain- 
ties, but  whom  she  first  wants  to  ask  for  news  of  the 
song-examination  which  occurred  in  the  morning.  Did 
the  knight  come  victorious  out  of  the  trial  ?  At  David's 
reply  in  the  negative,  she  quickly  snatches  away  the  bas- 
ket, into  which  he  is  already  diving :  there  is  no  reward 
for  the  bringer  of  bad  news  ;  and  she  re-enters  the  house 
showing  her  disappointment  by  her  expressive  gestures. 
•The  Apprentices,  who  have  watched  the  scene  from  a 
distance,  approach  their  abashed  comrade,  congratulating 
him  on  his  good  fortune  in  marrying  an  old  maid,  and  dance 
around  him  ;  David,  in  a  rage,  is  trying  to  thrash  them 
all,  when  Sachs,  coming  out  of  his  shop,  asks  the  reason 
of  all  this  noise  and  sends  the  pugnacious  youth  to  his 
room,  telling  him  he  shall  go  to  bed  without  having  his 
singing-lesson,  as  a  punishment  for  his  riotous  conduct. 
Whilst  they  go  in  together,  the  Apprentices  disperse, 
and  Eva  appears  at  the  corner  of  the  street  leaning  on  her 
father's  arm,  returning  from  a  walk. 

Scene   II.  —  Pogner,  who  is  secretly  preoccupied  with 


OF    RICHARD   WAGNER  135 

to-morrow's  contest  and  with  his  daughter's  fate,  would 
like  to  talk  with  his  friend  Sachs,  and  looks  through  the 
crack  in  his  shutters  to  sec  it"  the  cobbler  is  still  awake; 
the  maiden,  also  anxious,  but  without  wishing  to  show  it, 
keeps  silence.  She  is  vaguely  hoping  that  she  may  have 
a  visit  this  evening  from  him  whom  she  loves,  and  of 
whom  she  has  heard  no  news  since  the  morning;  she 
therefore  lends  an  idle  ear  to  the  conversation  of  her 
father,  who  is  trying  to  interest  her  in  the  coming  contest, 
of  which  she  is  to  be  the  heroine;  she  insists  on  leaving 
the  bench  on  which  they  are  sitting  and  entering  the 
house. 

Pogner  goes  in  first,  and  the  maiden,  standing  on  the 
threshold,  rapidly  exchanges  a  tew  words  in  a  low  voice 
with  the  nurse  who  has  been  awaiting  her.  She  learns 
from  Magdalene  of  the  knight's  failure  and  makes  up  her 
mind  to  go  secretly,  after  supper,  to  her  old  friend  Sachs 
to  ask  him  for  fuller  information.  Magdalene  has  an- 
other message  for  her  from  Beckmesser;  but  that  is  of 
no  importance:  Eva  takes  no  notice  of  it  and  enters  the 
house  in  her  turn. 

Scene  III.  —  Sachs,  after  having  repro\  ed  his  Appren- 
tice for  his  turbulence,  orders  him  to  set  his  bench  and 
stool  near  the  door,  and  then  sends  him  to  bed.  As  for 
himself,  he  sits  down,  intending  to  get  on  with  his  work  ; 
but  hardly  is  he  alone,  when  he  falls  into  a  reverie  in 
spite  of  himself;  he  leaves  his  work  and,  leaning  with 
his  elbows  on  the  lower  part  of  the  door,  he  gives  rein  to 
his  thoughts,  which  return  to  the  morning's  trial  :  What 
poetry  there  was  in  that  song,  although  it  was  constructed 
in  defiance  of  all  established  rules!  How  new  and  full 
of  freshness  was  that  hymn  of  Spring  !  How  evidently 
it  rose  from  the  soul  of  an  artist,  and  how  entirely  it  has 
captured  the  heart  of  the  good  Sachs  ! 


136  THE    MUSIC   DRAMAS 

Scene  TV. —While  he  thus  meditates,  Eva,  who  has 
come  out  of  her  house,  has  approached  the  shop  door, 
looking  in  every  direction  to  see  if  she  has  been  noticed  ; 
she  wishes  her  old  friend  good-evening,  and,  sitting  down 
near  him  on  the  stone  bench,  she  tries  to  lead  the  con- 
versation to  the  subject  which  fills  her  heart :  the  contest 
of  the  morrow,  the  prize  of  which  is  to  be  herself.  — 
Who  will  take  part  in  the  contest  ?  she  asks.  The  poet- 
cobbler,  who  has  the  necessary  rank  to  enter  the  trial ; 
has  he  no  idea  of  competing?  —  She  questions  him  in  a 
round-about  way,  but  is  quickly  reassured  :  the  excellent 
Sachs  loves  her  as  a  child,  he  has  known  her  from  her 
birth,  but  he  would  not  take  such  a  young  girl  for  his 
wife  :  that  would  be  folly  on  his  part ;  besides  has  he  not 
been  married  and  been  the  father  of  a  family  already? 
And  he  rejects  the  idea  upon  which  Eva  insists,  and 
which  is,  perhaps,  a  little  nearer  to  his  heart  than  he 
would  care  to  acknowledge  to  himself.  — Then  is  it  not 
his  intention  to  favour  Beckmesser  ?  —  No,  again  replies 
the  worthy  man,  who  sees  perfectly  well  what  she  is 
driving  at;  and  when,  after  more  beating  about  the  bush, 
she  at  last  speaks  of  the  morning's  examination,  asking 
who  were  present ;  whilst  thinking  of  the  love  freshlv 
awakened  in  this  young  heart  which  he  cherishes '  un- 
known to  himself  and  which  will  never  be  his,  he  can- 
not help  feeling  a  moment's  sadness,  and  despite  his 
kindheartedness,  he  takes  a  half-malicious  pleasure  in 
criticising  the  song  Walter  composed,  saving  that  the 
young  knight,  with  his  new  and  strange  ideas,  will  never 
succeed  in  producing  anything,  and  may  at  once  give  up 
all  hope  of  gaining  the  rank  of  Master. 

At  these  words,  Eva  cannot  restrain  her  annoyance  ; 
she  rises  quickly,  saying  that  if  Walter  cannot  find  grace 
in  the  eyes  of  the  dry-as-dust  pedants  of  Nuremberg,  he 


OF    RICHARD    WAGNER  137 

will  certainly  be  appreciated  elsewhere  by  hearts  which 
are  warm,  ardent,  and  progressive.  Then,  without 
waiting  any  longer,  she  goes  away  with  Magdalene, 
who   has  come  to  call   her  in  a  low   voice. 

The  good  Sachs,  who  has  learnt  from  his  young 
friend's  manner  what  he  wished  to  know,  watches  her 
with  a  pensive  glance  as  she  goes  away  in  anger,  and 
generously  vows  to  protect  her  innocent  love-affair  with 
all  his  power.  He  then  shuts  the  upper  wing  of  his 
door,  which  only  reveals  a  narrow  slit  of  light,  whilst 
the  two  women,  standing  aside  together,  argue  in  low 
tones.  Magdalene  tries  to  make  Eva  go  in,  as  her 
father  has  called  her  several  times  ;  but  the  maiden  has 
decided  to  await  the  knight  in  the  street,  for  he  cannot 
fail  to  come,  and  she  is  determined  to  talk  with  him. 
The  nurse  then  gives  her  Beckmesser's  message  :  that 
ridiculous  suitor  asks  his  beautiful  lady  to  give  a  hearing 
to  the  song  which  he  has  prepared  for  to-morrow's  com- 
petition, and  which  he  is  coming  to  sing  with  a  lute 
accompaniment  under  her  window  this  very  evening  to 
submit  it  to  her  approbation.  Eva,  wishing  to  get  rid 
of  him,  sends  Magdalene  to  take  her  place  on  the  bal- 
cony, to  the  great  affliction  of  the  latter,  who  fears  to 
excite  David's  jealousy  by  so  doing.  But  Eva  will  not 
listen  to  her;  she  pushes  her  companion  into  the  house, 
where  Pogner  is  still  calling  for  her,  and  in  spite  of 
Magdalene,  who  tries  to  drag  her  in  with  her,  remains 
on  the  threshold,  listening  to  footsteps  which  without 
doubt   herald   the   longed-for  approach   of  Walter. 

Scene  V.  —  It  is,  in  fact,  the  young  knight  coming 
down  the  lane.  Eva  runs  to  meet  him,  and,  in  a  state 
of  exaltation,  declares  that,  whatever  happens,  she  will 
choose  him  against  all  the  world  as  her  companion  and 
husband.      Walter,  still  upset  and  indignant  at  the  morn- 


138  THE    MUSIC    DRAMAS 

ing's  failure,  tells  his  beloved  how  contemptuously  those 
antiquated  Meistersinger  received  him,  —  him  who, 
filled  with  courage  and  fortified  with  his  love,  had  sub- 
mitted to  their  examination.  Therefore,  since  he  sees 
perfectly  well  that  he  can  never  acquire  that  title,  which 
according  to  the  goldsmith's  will  is  the  indispensable 
condition  of  obtaining  Eva's  hand,  one  sole  resource 
remains  for  them  if  thev  wish  to  belong  to  each  other, 
and  that  is  to  fly  together,  and  so  gain  their  liberty.  In 
a  fever  of  excitement,  he  fancies  he  still  hears  the  raillerv 
of  the  Meistersinger  pursuing  him  and  proclaiming  their 
pretensions  to  his  dear  one  ;  fiercely  he  lays  his  hand 
upon  the  hilt  of  his  sword  :  but  the  distant  noise  which 
he  heard  was  only  the  horn  of  the  night-watchman, 
who  is  making  his  rounds  and  inviting  the  inhabitants 
of  the  town  to  rest.  The  two  lovers  have  only  just 
time  to  conceal  themselves  from  sight :  Eva  disappears 
into  the  interior  of  the  house  with  Magdalene,  who  has 
come  back  to  Icok  for  her,  and  Walter  hides  himself 
behind  the  lime-tree,  while  Sachs,  who  has  overheard 
the  conversation,  opens  his  door  a  little  wider  and  lowers 
his  lamp,  so  as  to  continue  his  observation  without 
being  perceived,  determining  to  watch  over  the  two  im- 
prudent young  people  and  prevent  their  committing  any 
folly. 

The  watchman  goes  on  his  way,  and  Walter  leaves 
his  retreat,  anxiously  awaiting  Eva's  return.  She  soon 
appears,  muffled  in  her  nurse's  clothes,  which  she  has 
taken  the  better  to  conceal  herself.  She  is  already 
pointing  out  to  her  lover  the  road  by  which  they  must 
fly,  when  Sachs,  who  is  lying  in  wait  inside  his  shop, 
suddenly  turns  upon  them  the  light  of  his  lamp,  shining 
through   his  wide  open  door. 

Scene   VI.  — The  two  fugitives,  thus  fully  illumined, 


OF    RICHARD    WAGNER  139 

do  not  know  what  to  do:  to  follow  along  the  street  is  to 
risk  meeting  the  watchman;  to  go  down  the  lane  under 
the  cobbler's  eyes  is  impossible.  Waiter  then  wants  to 
extinguish  the  lamp  of  the  troublesome  neighbour,  but  is 
astonished  to  learn  that  it  is  no  other  than  Sachs  who  so 
well  defended  him  that  morning,  and  who,  as  Eva  tells 
him,  now  decries  him  like  all  the  others. 

In  addition,  a  fresh  difficulty  now  presents  itself  under 
the  ungraceful  form  of  Beckmesser,  who  is  coming  to 
give  his  serenade.  The  knight's  irritation  is  redoubled 
on  recognizing  his  declared  enemy ;  but  Eva  calms 
him  by  assuring  him  that  the  ridiculous  person  shall  not 
long  remain  there,  and  will  go  away  as  soon  as  his  song 
is  sung.  She  draws  her  lover  towards  the  bench,  and 
they  both   hide  behind  the  bushes. 

Sachs,  who  on  Beckmesser's  arrival  had  turned  down 
the  lamp  again,  directs  its  light  into  the  street  at  the 
moment  when  the  town-clerk  is  beginning  to  tune  his 
lute  to  sing,  and,  sitting  down  to  his  bench,  he  sings  a 
popular  song  with  all  his  might,  whilst  loudly  hammering 
upon  his  last.  The  grotesque  Beckmesser,  in  a  rage, 
nevertheless  tries  to  put  a  good  face  on  the  matter,  and 
begins  to  talk  to  Sachs  to  induce  him  to  be  quiet  and  let 
him  sing  in  his  turn  ;  but  the  malicious  cobbler  will  not 
lend  himself  to  his  scheme;  he  pretends  that  he  thinks 
Beckmesser  has  come  to  hasten  the  delivery  of  a  pair  of 
shoes,  and  sets  busily  to  work,  redoubling  his  noise. 
The  song  he  selects  is  intended  to  exasperate  the  ugly 
town-clerk,  whose  rage  increases  in  an  amusing  manner, 
and  to  warn  Walter  and  Eva  that  a  friend  is  acquainted 
with  their  doings  and  will  find  a  way  to  balk  their  hot- 
headed plans.  The  maiden  is  greatly  worried  at  this, 
and  has  all  the  trouble  in  the  world  to  calm  the  knight's 
irritation,   when,   by    a    happ\    diversion,   Eva's    window 


i4o  THE    MUSIC    DRAMAS 

softly  opens,  and  indistinctly  reveals  a  female  form,  which 
is  none  other  than  Magdalene  dressed  in  the  clothes  of 
her  mistress.  This  trick  played  on  his  presumptuous 
rival  amuses  Walter,  who  now  follows  the  scene  with 
interest.  Beckmesser,  thinking  himself  in  the  presence 
of  his  loved  one,  is  anxious  to  warble  his  melody  to  her; 
so  he  pretends  that  he  has  come  to  sing  to  Sachs  to  get 
his  opinion ;  but  the  crafty  Hans  denies  any  compe- 
tence in  the  matter  and  applies  himself  noisily  to  the 
town-clerk's  shoes,  which  seem  to  absorb  his  whole 
interest.  Beckmesser  insists  and  flies  into  a  passion ; 
Sachs,  with  apparent  simplicity,  imperturbablv  continues 
his  teasing,  and  obstinately  refuses  to  leave  his  noisv 
work.  The  situation  is  prolonged  in  the  most  comic 
way  ;  the  town-clerk  is  on  thorns  :  suppose  Eva  should 
grow  impatient  and  leave  the  window !  At  last  thev 
come  to  some  sort  of  an  agreement :  Beckmesser,  con- 
quered by  the  stupid  tenacity  of  the  cobbler,  consents 
with  a  sigh  to  be  judged  by  Hans,  who,  nevertheless, 
will  not  relinquish  his  dear  shoes  and  will  mark  the  poet's 
faults  by  driving  the  nails  into  the  soles  with  blows  of 
his  hammer.  The  singer  then  places  himself  well  in 
view  of  Eva's  window,  which  is  wide  open,  and,  after 
having  played  a  prelude  on  his  lute,  which,  in  his  fury, 
he  has  tuned  falsely,  begins  his  first  couplet,  which  is 
soon  interrupted  by  one  and  then  bv  two,  and  then  three 
blows.  He  turns  round  furiously,  but  noiselessly,  to  this 
new  marker,  who  stops  him  at  every  moment  by  remarks 
on  his  verses,  and  ends  by  tranquilly  advising  him  to 
begin  his  song  again.  In  this  song  he  celebrates  the 
day  which  will  soon  break,  the  competition  which  is 
going  to  take  place,  and  the  beautiful  maiden  who  will 
be  the  prize.  In  proportion  as  his  song  proceeds,  the 
strokes  of  Sachs's  hammer  are  redoubled,  accelerated,  and 


OF   RICHARD    WAGNER  141 

increased  a  thousandfold.  At  each  stroke,  Beckmessej 
makes  a  significant  grimace,  and,  in  an  attempt  to  drow  n 
them,  he  sings  louder  and  louder,  thus  giving  his  song, 
which  he  meant  to  be  languorous  and  expressive,  a  roar- 
ing, jerking,  and  altogether  ridiculous  rendering.  Sachs 
then  asks  him,  in  a  perfectly  serious  way,  if  he  has 
finished  his  song:  as  for  him,  Sachs,  he  has  ended  his 
work,  thanks  to  the  numerous  faults  he  has  had  to  mark; 
then,  giving  him  in  two  words  his  opinion,  which  is  any- 
thing but  flattering,  of  the  poetical  work,  he  bursts  out 
laughing  in  his  face  and  turns  his  back  on  him.  Then 
Beckmesser,  who  is  exasperated,  but  will  not  desist,  con- 
tinues to  sing  under  the  window  of  his  charmer,  although 
the  latter  has  retired  with  a  gesture  of  disapprobation  ; 
he  bellows  at  the  top  of  his  voice  in  such  shrill  tones  and 
makes  such  a  noise  that  the  neighbours  are  awakened, 
and  begin  to  show  themselves  at  the  windows.  David 
appears  with  the  others,  and,  thinking  that  it  is  Magda- 
lene who  is  being  serenaded,  he  springs  into  the  street 
with  a  cudgel  in  his  hand,  and,  rushing  at  the  town-clerk 
he  breaks  his  lute  and  administers  a  drubbing  which  con- 
tinues for  the  rest  of  the  scene.  The  inhabitants  of  the 
quarter  then  come  down  into  the  street  half  dressed, and, 
trying  to  separate  the  two  combatants,  start  quarrelling 
among  themselves.  The  Apprentices  run  from  all  direc- 
tions, delighted  to  increase  the  tumult,  then  follow  the 
weavers,  curriers,  butchers,  potters,  etc.  ;  the  Meister- 
singer  and  the  citizens,  attracted  by  the  noise,  arrive  in 
their  turn  ;  every  one  is  lighting  with  his  neighbour  :  the 
women  join  in  on  recognizing  their  husbands  and  their 
brothers;  the  brawl  is  at  its  height,  the  tumult  is  gen- 
eral, every  one  is  shouting  excitedly,  nothing  but  bleed- 
ing noses  and  black  eves  are  visible  on  every  side. 
Magdalene  has  come  down   from   her  window  to  make 


i42  THE    MUSIC    DRAMAS 

David  let  go  of  Beckmesser,  whom  he  is  still  thrashing', 
but  Pogner,  who  thinks  she  is  Eva,  whose  clothes  she  is 
still  wearing,  orders  her  to  come  into  the  house  again 
and  keep  quiet,  then  he  descends  to  the  ground  floor, 
and  appears  on  the  threshold  of  his  door.  Since  the 
tumult  began,  Eva  and  Walter  have  remained  concealed 
under  the  lime-tree  full  of  anxiety  ;  but,  profiting  bv  the 
general  uproar,  they  are  again  thinking  of  flight;  fol- 
lowed by  his  companion,  the  knight,  sword  in  hand, 
advances  to  make  a  way  for  himself  through  the  crowd 
under  cover  of  the  night,  for  the  cobbler's  lamp  no 
longer  illuminates  the  scene;  but  Sachs,  who  has  not 
ceased  to  watch  the  lovers,  comes  out  to  make  David 
relinquish  his  hold,  sending  him  rolling  into  the  shop 
with  a  kick,  while  Beckmesser  limps  away  as  fast  as 
possible.  Sachs  then  advances  into  the  middle  of  the 
street  and  pushes  Eva  towards  her  house,  where  the 
goldsmith,  believing  her  to  be  Magdalene,  receives  her 
and  quickly  closes  the  door  behind  them ;  Hans  then 
seizes  Walter  by  the  arm,  draws  him  into  the  shop,  and 
shuts  the  door.  At  this  moment  some  of  the  belligerents 
have  the  idea  of  calming  the  others  by  sousing  them  with 
water,  crying  "Fire!"  The  rout  then  begins;  next  is 
heard  in  the  distance  the  horn  of  the  watchman,  who  is 
slowly  approaching ;  the  citizens,  guilders,  and  Appren- 
tices take  fright,  disperse  in  the  twinkling  of  an  eye,  and 
disappear  into  their  houses,  quickly  shutting  the  doors 
and  windows,  so  that  when  the  watchman  arrives  to 
invite  the  inhabitants  to  rest,  the  quarter  has  resumed  its 
accustomed  calm;  the  good  man,  thinking  he  must  have 
been  dreaming  when  he  heard  the  distant  echoes  of  the 
fight,  rubs  his  eyes  and  finds  only  a  city  sleeping  in  the 
luminous  beauty  of  the   moon,  which   has  just  risen. 


OF    RICHARD    WAGNER  143 

Act  III. 

Scene  I.  —  We  are  now  introduced  into  Sachs's  shop. 
At  the  back  is  the  street  door  with  the  upper  part  open. 
To  the  left  is  a  window  with  pots  of  flowers,  and  look- 
ing on  to  the  lane  ;  upon  the  right  a  door  opens  into  a 
small  room. 

The  cobbler  is  sitting  in  a  large  armchair  near  the 
window,  illumined  bv  the  rays  of  the  morning  sun  ;  he 
is  absorbed  in  reading  a  large  folio  volume  which  he 
holds  on  his  knees,  and  docs  not  notice  the  arrival  of  his 
Apprentice,  who  puts  his  head  in  cautiously  from  the 
street  and  looks  around  the  room,  then,  seeing  that  he  is 
not  noticed,  enters  on  tiptoe  and  gently  sets  down  be- 
hind the  bench  a  basket  which  he  has  on  his  arm.  He 
examines  its  contents  with  great  interest,  and  succes- 
sively takes  out  flowers  and  ribbons,  and  then  a  cake  and 
a  sausage,  which  he  begins  to  eat,  when,  at  the  noise 
which  Sachs  makes  by  turning  over  a  leaf,  he  starts  and 
quickly  hides  his  treasures.  Then,  fearing  his  master's 
anger  for  his  turbulent  conduct  of  the  past  night,  he 
begins  to  justify  himself  in  a  flood  of  words  which  Sachs, 
being  still  absorbed  in  his  reading,  does  not  hear.  David, 
full  of  his  subject,  continues  to  plead  his  cause  with  an 
ardour  that  is  touching  and  comical  at  the  same  time, 
while  occasionally  casting  an  expressive  and -anxious 
glance  on  his  provisions,  which  cause  him  considerable 
uneasiness.  The  kind  poet  at  last  shuts  his  book,  and 
slowly  rousing  from  his  reverie,  is  greatly  astonished  at 
seeing  David  on  his  knees,  quite  overcome  by  fear  and 
anxiously  looking  at  him.  Sachs,  noticing  the  flowers 
and  ribbons,  begins,  to  David's  great  delight,  to  talk 
quietly,  and  without  any  display  of  anger,  of  the  festival 
which  is  in  preparation,  and  makes  his  pupil  recite  for 


144  THE    MUSIC   DRAMAS 

his  lesson  the  verses  on  Saint  John.  The  youth,  in  his 
confusion,  sings  the  words  to  the  air  of  Beckmesser's 
absurd  serenade,  then  at  Sachs's  sign  of  astonishment,  he 
takes  up  the  proper  air  of  his  song,  the  subject  of  which 
is  the  baptism  of  a  Nuremberg  infant,  who  was  taken  to 
the  banks  of  the  Jordan  and  called  Johannes  in  Latin, 
or  Hans  in  German  ;  this  transition  leads  the  singer  to 
give  his  master  the  good  wishes  for  the  day,  while 
eagerlv  offering  him  the  flowers  and  dainties  in  his 
basket ;  he  ends  with  the  wish  that  Sachs,  being  trium- 
phant at  the  competition  and  obtaining  Eva's  hand,  may 
thus  adorn  his  house  with  a  gracious  face  which  will 
bring  new  gaiety  into  it.  -The  worthy  man  replies 
gently,  but  with  some  reserve,  keeping  to  himself  his 
secret  thoughts,  which  are  sad  with  the  renunciation  of  a 
happiness  within  his  vision,  but  one  which,  with  his  cour- 
ageous good  sense,  he  has  never  acknowledged  even  to 
himself,  and  sends  David  away  to  make  himself  ready 
for  the  festival  which  is  about  to  begin.  David,  quite 
touched,  and  happy  at  having  escaped  a  reprimand,  re- 
spectfully kisses  his  master's  hand  and  goes  to  his  room, 
while  the  poet-philosopher  resumes  the  thread  of  his 
thoughts,  still  holding  the  folio  on  his  knees.  He  medi- 
tates  profoundly  on  human  nature,  which,  alas,  is  so 
prompt  at  ill  deeds  and  quarrels.  How  small  a  thing 
suffices  to  let  loose  human  passions  and  make  men 
clash  together !  What  made  these  placid  inhabitants  of 
Nuremberg  so  enraged  last  night?  An  unknown  cause, 
most  certainly  puerile,  set  them  at  one  another  :  the  ex- 
halations of  a  flowering  lime-tree,  the  malicious  prompt- 
ing of  some  kobold,  or,  perhaps,  the  heaviness  of  the 
air  on  that  Eve  of  Saint  John?  This  thought  of  Saint 
John,  which  suddenly  occurs,  reminds  him  that  on  this 
day  he  has  a  task  to  accomplish.      He  must   manoeuvre 


OF    RICHARD    WAGNER  145 

very  skilfully  and  use  every  means  to  forward  the  hap- 
piness of  the  youthful  pair  whose  love-affair  he  has  taken 
under  his  protection. 

Scene  II. — At  this  moment  the  door  of  the  little 
room  opens  to  admit  Walter,  who  stands  still  for  a  mo- 
ment looking  at  Sachs  ;  the  latter  turns  round  and  lets 
the   folio   fall   from   his   knees  to  the   floor. 

Walter,  who  has  received  most  cordial  hospitality 
from  his  host,  has  passed  under  his  roof  a  comfortable 
and  refreshing  night,  during  which  he  has  had  a  dream  of 
the  most  ideal  beauty.  Hans  then  suggests  that  he  shall 
take  this  dream  as  the  basis  of  his  competition-song  ;  for 
he  wants  to  sec  him  make  the  venture,  notwithstanding 
his  failure  of  yesterday.  He  must  not  feel  resentful 
against  these  good  honest  people,  who  may  have  been 
mistaken  in  all  sincerity,  and  may,  moreover,  have  been 
somewhat  troubled  by  the  novel  and  unrestrained  form 
of  the  song  which  he  gave  them.  Sachs  most  certainly 
does  not  despair  of  seeing  his  protege  succeed ;  had  it 
been  otherwise,  would  he  not  have  been  the  first  to 
favour  the  flight  and  union  of  the  two  lovers  ?  Come, 
let  Walter  get  to  work  quickly  and  compose  a  beautiful 
Master-song. 

"But  first,  what  is  meant  by  a  Master-song?  "  replies 
the  knight;  "what  is  the  use  of  these  strict  rules  which 
they  insist  on  imposing  upon  everybody  ?  Can  genius 
accommodate  itself  thus  to  fetters  which  impede  its 
flight  ?  " 

"  In  the  spring-time  of  life,"  the  good  Sachs  replies, 
c  when  all  the  ardour  and  sap  of  vouth  are  flowing  in 
the  heart  and  brain,  genius  can  certainly  do  without 
rules,  and  often  succeeds  in  producing  a  beautiful  and 
strong  work  without  their  aid  ;  but  when  time  and  life, 
with    its   train  of  sorrows,  have  frozen  this   ardour  and 

10 


14.6  THE    MUSIC    DRAMAS 

dashed  this  enthusiasm,  he  who  is  no  longer  guided  by 
enthusiasm  and  youthful  illusions  will  never  be  able  to 
create  anything  if  he  does  not  seek  the  support  of  science  ■, 
those  who  have  taken  the  trouble  to  formulate  and  group 
these  rules  have  been  precisely  men  tried  by  the  hardships 
of  life  and  who  have  felt  the  need  of  such  an  aid."  And 
Sachs,  after  a  melancholy  allusion  to  his  own  state  of 
mind,  ends  by  recommending  the  young  knight  to  begin 
his  work  without  delay,  — to  relate  his  dream,  which  shall 
serve  as  a  basis  for  the  subject,  and  his  master  will  teach 
him  how  to  make  it  accord  with  the  rules  of  the  Meister- 
singer,  so  that  they  may  approve  and  crown  it. 

Walter,  collecting  his  memories,  sings  the  first  strophe, 
describing-  a  wondrous  garden  full  of  the  sweetest  odours 
and  displayed  before  his  eyes  in  the  clear  light  of  a  bril- 
liant dawn. 

"  Very  good  indeed,"  says  Sachs,  telling  him  immedi- 
ately to  compose  the  second  strophe,  so  that  the  parallel 
may  be  completed.  Walter  continues,  in  a  second 
couplet,  to  describe  the  enchanted  garden,  then,  at  his 
teacher's  instructions,  he  adds  the  conclusion,  in  which 
he  sings  of  a  radiant  beauty  who  appears  to  his  dazzled 
eyes  and  leads  him  toward  the  tree  of  life.  Sachs, 
moved  with  the  poetry  of  the  first  Bar,1  invites  the  young 
poet  to  compose  a  second,  into  which  Walter  again  puts 
all  his  heart.  A  third  one  is  wanted  ;  but  the  knight 
will  easily  be  able  to  compose  that  at  the  time  of  the 
contest ;   he  must  now  go  and  put  on   his   festival   robes, 

1  "  Every  Meistersinger  Song  or  Bar  has  a  regular  measure.  .  .  . 
A  Bar  most  frequently  consists  of  various  strophes.  ...  A  strophe 
is  usually  composed  of  two  Stollen  which  are  sung  to  the  same  mel- 
ody. A  Stoll  is  composed  of  a  certain  number  of  verses  ;  the  end 
of  which  is  indicated  by  a  cross.  Then  comes  the  Abgesang  (the 
envoy)  ;  it  also  consists  of  a  certain  number  of  verses,  which,  how- 
ever, are  sung  to  another  melody."  — Wagenseil  (1697). 


OF    RICHARD    WAGNER  147 

for  the  solemn  moment  approaches.  Sachs,  full  of  con- 
fidence about  the  happy  issue  of  the  trial  which  his  pro- 
tege will  undergo,  opens  the  door  for  him  with  an  air  of 
great  deference,  and  makes  him  pass  out  first. 

Scene  III.  —  Beckmesser  then  appears  at  the  win- 
dow, and,  seeing  nobody,  ventures  in.  He  is  in  gala 
dress,  but  his  movements  are  painful,  as  he  still  feels  the 
beating  that  David  gave  him  the  evening  before.  He 
limps,  rubs  his  limbs,  and  seems  furious  ;  he  angrily  ges- 
ticulates as  he  looks  at  Pogner's  house  and  Eva's  window, 
then  he  walks  to  and  fro,  and  suddenly  stops,  noticing 
on  the  bench  the  paper  on  which  Sachs  has  just  taken 
down  Walter's  composition.  He  inquisitively  reads  it, 
and  his  anger  breaks  out,  for  he  thinks  the  cobbler  has 
composed  this  poetical  essay  on  his  own  account.  Then 
he  quickly  hides  the  paper  in  his  pocket,  as  he  hears  the 
door  opening;  it  is  Hans  coming  in,  also  in  full  dress, 
and  who,  appearing  pleasantly  surprised  with  his  visit, 
asks  him,  in  a  tone  of  malicious  interest,  how  he  likes 
the   shoes   which  were    finished   and   delivered   the  ni<rht 

o 

before.  Alas !  the  soles,  which  served  as  a  target  for 
the  blows  of  the  improvised  marker,  are  very  thin,  and 
scarcely  protect  their  owner  from  the  pebbles  in  the  road  ; 
but  it  is  not  that  which  troubles  him.  The  town-clerk 
tells  Sachs  that  he  now  sees  clearly  through  his  game,  and 
some  day  he  will  pay  back  his  treacherous  pleasantry  of 
last  night,  a  pleasantry  intended  to  ruin  him  in  the  beau- 
tiful Eva's  eyes,  besides  furthering  the  cobbler's  own 
ambitious  plans  with  her,  of  whose  person  and  wealth  he 
is  equally  covetous.  Sachs  in  vain  protests  his  innocence 
and  the  absence  of  any  intentions  with  regard  to  the 
maiden  ;  the  town-clerk  refuses  to  believe  it,  and,  think- 
ing to  confound  him,  draws  from  his  pocket  the  paper 
on   which  the  sketch  of  Walter's  composition  is  written 


148  THE   MUSIC    DRAMAS 

and  shows  it  to  him.  The  cobbler  jeers  at  the  mean 
fellow  for  the  indelicate  conduct  he  has  just  been  guilty 
of  in  stealing  this  poetic  essay ;  and,  to  prove  to  him 
what  little  store  he  sets  on  this  scrap  of  paper,  he  gives 
it  to  him.  Beckmesser  is  surprised  and  delighted  at  pos- 
sessing a  poem  by  Sachs  to  make  use  of  in  the  song- 
contest.  What  a  god-send  !  He  immediately  alters  his 
behaviour  towards  the  man  he  has  just  been  insulting  so 
violently,  and,  after  having  assured  himself  that  the  poem 
is  really  given  to  him  for  his  own  property  and  that 
Sachs  will  never  claim  its  authorship,  he  becomes  good- 
humoured,  fawning,  and  flattering,  and  goes  away,  still 
limping,  but  triumphant,  persuaded  that  his  own  musical 
talent  united  with  Sachs's  composition,  will  easily  gain 
for  him  the  prize  he  desires  and  which  no  rival  will  be 
able  to  dispute  with  him.  Sachs  looks  after  him  with  a 
smiling  glance,  thinking  that  the  indiscreet  action  of  this 
low  and  vile  nature  will  be  a  wonderful  help  to  his  plans. 
Scene  IV.  —  Scarcely  has  Beckmesser  departed  when 
the  pretty  little  Eva,  looking  exquisite  in  her  white 
betrothal  dress,  appears  at  the  shop-door;  she  has  come 
under  the  pretext  of  showing  her  old  friend  the  shoes  he 
made  which  she  pretends  do  not  fit,  and  hurt  her.  The 
good  Sachs  understands  her  ruse  perfectly  well;  but  pre- 
tends not  to  notice  it,  nor  her  stifled  cry  of  joy  as  Walter 
appears  on  the  threshold  in  brilliant  costume.  Walter  is 
filled  with  ecstasy  before  the  blonde  beauty  who  meets 
his  vision.  Sachs  turns  his  back,  seeming  to  be  absorbed 
in  examining  the  little  shoe  ;  to  remedy  it,  he  takes  it  off 
and  goes  to  the  bench  as  if  he  has  not  noticed  anything, 
philosophizing  as  he  works.  He  says  what  pleasure  it 
would  be,  if  some  one  would  sing  some  verses  while  he 
works;  he  heard  some  pretty  ones  just  now,  and  would 
like?    to   know   the   rest !      Walter,  who   understands   his 


OF    RICHARD    WAGNER  149 

allusion,  begins  to  sing  the  third  bar  of  his  Prize-song, 
which,  like  the  others,  treats  of  his  love  and  devotion. 
Sachs,  who  has  been  at  work  the  whole  time,  now  brings 
her  shoes  to  Eva,  who  has  been  standing  motionless  in 
ecstasy.  She  then  understands  what  has  happened  ; 
moved  by  this  poetic  music,  by  the  delicate  kindness  of 
her  noble  friend,  and  by  his  devotion  to  their  cause,  and 
overcome  with  emotion,  she  falls  sobbing  into  Sachs's 
arms,  and  presses  him  to  her  heart,  while  Walter,  also 
approaches  and  clasps  the  hand  of  the  worthy  man  who 
has  done  so  much  for  him.  Hans,  to  conceal  the  emo- 
tion, which  is  also  affecting  him,  makes  jesting  remarks 
about  his  difficult  business  as  a  cobbler,  and  as  a  confidant 
of  maidens  who  are  seeking  husbands  ;  then,  to  leave  the 
two  lovers  alone,  he  pretends  to  be  going  to  look  for 
David;  but  Eva  detains  him.  She  wants  to  tell  him  of 
all  the  gratitude  with  which  her  heart  is  overflowing  and 
all  the  affection  she  feels  for  him,  —  an  affection  which 
would  have  led  her  to  choose  him  for  her  husband,  if 
another  still  stronger  love  had  not  come  into  her  heart. 
The  kind  Sachs  waves  aside  this  thought:  if  he  had  har- 
boured it  for  an  instant,  the  sad  story  of  Tristan  and 
Isolde  and  King  Mark  would  have  served  him  as  an 
example  and  kept  him  from  indulging  such  a  rash  dream. 
He  will  not  dwell  on  these  dangerous  thoughts,  and 
quickly  calls  Magdalene,  who  in  festal  array  is  hovering 
about  the  house,  and  then  David,  also  gaily  dressed,  and 
proposes  to  have  a  baptism  of  the  new  mode,  which  owes 
its  birth  to  the  poetic  imagination  of  the  young  knight. 
He  declares  himself  godfather,  Eva  godmother,  and 
David  witness;  but,  as  an  Apprentice  cannot  be  called 
to  such  a  dignified  office,  he  at  once  confers  on  him  the 
grade  n{'  Companion,  and  to  the  great  joy  of  the  young 
man,  he  gives  him  the  accolade  in  the  form  of  a  vigorous 


1 5o  THE    MUSIC    DRAMAS 

box  on  the  ear.  Then  he  offers  to  his  godson  all  his  best 
wishes  for  success,  which  he  would  have  liked  to  weave 
into  a  joyous  song,  if  his  poor  heart,  which  is  somewhat 
bruised  by  all  the  struggles  it  has  lately  passed  through, 
had  left  him  the  power  to  do  so. 

Eva  and  Walter  unite  their  voices  and  their  wishes  for 
a  success  which  would  overwhelm  them  with  happiness. 
David  and  Magdalene,  happy  at  seeing  their  own  love- 
affair  in  such  a  flourishing  condition,  thanks  to  the  rank 
to  which  the  new  Companion  has  just  been  raised,  join  in 
the  general  rejoicing. 

Whilst  Eva  returns  to  her  father  to  accompany  him  to 
the  meadow  where  the  contest  is  to  be  held,  and  David 
puts  up  the  shutters  of  Sachs's  shop,  the  orchestra  breaks 
into  a  joyous  air,  which  is  resolved  into  a  march  rhythm, 
and  the  curtain  rapidly  falls. 

Scene  V.  —  When  it  rises  again,  the  stage  represents 
the  meadow  through  which  the  Pegnitz  winds  ;  and  in 
the  distance  the  town  of  Nuremberg  is  visible ;  the 
landscape  is  enlivened  by  booths  where  refreshments  are 
sold  and  by  continual  going  and  coming  of  boats,  which 
land  on  the  river-bank  the  citizens  and  their  families  in 
holiday  attire.  On  the  right,  a  platform,  already  adorned 
on  three  sides  with  the  corporation  banners,  is  prepared 
and  provided  with  seats.  The  Apprentices  of  the  Meis- 
tersinger  in  their  holiday  clothes,  perform  the  duties  of 
ushers  to  the  new  arrivals;  among  the  corporations 
which  they  conduct  to  their  places  are  :  the  Shoemakers 
who  sing  a  couplet  in  honour  of  Saint  Crispin,  who  stole 
leather  to  make  shoes  for  the  poor ;  then,  preceded  by 
fifers  and  the  makers  of  toy  musical  instruments,  come 
the  Tailors,  who  proclaim  in  a  joyous  song  the  bravery 
and  stratagem  of  one  of  their  order,  who  managed  to 
save  the  city  from   the  attack  of  the  enemy  by  dressing 


OF    RICHARD    WAGNER  151 

himself  m  the  skin  of  a  goat.  The  Bakers  follow  the 
Tailors,  vaunting  the  utility  of  their  calling,  withoul 
which  people  would  die  of  hunger ;  but  they  arc  inter- 
rupted by  the  arrival  of  a  boat,  decorated  with  flags  and 
tilled  with  dainty  little  peasants  ;  the  Companions  and 
Apprentices  run  to  meet  them  and  help  them  land  ;  the 
latter  are  the  more  successful  with  the  new-comers,  and, 
to  deprive  the  Companions  of  their  company,  they  take 
them  away  and  begin  to  waltz  with  them.  David,  who 
is  one  of  the  joyous  band,  puts  his  arm  around  a  pretty 
girl  and  begins  to  dance  with  great  spirit,  but  is  terrified 
for  a  moment  by  his  comrades'  menacing  talk  of  Magda- 
lene's arrival. 

Finally,  the  Companions,  who  have  been  watching  at 
the  landing-place,  signal  the  approach  of  the  Meister- 
singer.  Every  one  precipitately  deserts  his  partner; 
David,  on  taking  leave  of  his,  gives  her  an  enthusiastic 
kiss,  and  they  all  range  themselves  on  the  bank  to  let  the 
Meistersinger  pass  between  their  ranks;  the  latter  march 
in  procession  to  the  platform,  having  at  their  head  Koth- 
ner,  bearing  the  banner,  and  Pogner,  holding  Eva  by  the 
hand.  The  maiden  is  followed  by  her  friends,  also 
richly  dressed,  and  by  Magdalene.  The  people  joyfully 
salute  the  learned  corporation,  and  wave  their  hats  as  it 
passes.  Eva  and  her  father  occupy  the  seats  of  honour 
on  the  platform  ;  Kothner  sets  up  the  banner  of  the 
Meistersinger;   and  the  Apprentices  call  for  silence. 

Sachs  then  advances  to  address  the  throng;  but  the 
people,  at  the  sight  of  their  beloved  poet,  who  knows  so 
well  how  to  sing  of  their  sufferings  and  their  hopes, 
break  out  afresh  in  enthusiastic  exclamations,  and,  with 
a  touching  spontaneousness,  sing  a  beautiful  song  of 
Hans's  composition,  which  is  fast  in  the  memory  as  in 
the  heart  of  every  one  of  them.      Sachs,  who  during  the 


i52  THE    MUSIC    DRAMAS 

singing  has  been  lost  in  deep  reverie,  is  touched,  and, 
facing  his  fellow-citizens,  thanks  them  for  their  welcome. 
Then,  addressing  the  Meistersinger,  he  reminds  them 
how  elevated  is  the  object  of  the  competition  which  is 
about  to  open  and  how  precious  is  the  prize  reserved  for 
the  victor.  He  asks  that  every  poet  may  have  the  right 
to  present  himself  freely  and  unconditionally,  provided  he 
can  prove  a  stainless  past,  which  will  be  a  sure  guarantee 
of  happiness  for  the  adorable  being  who  will  constitute  so 
high  a  recompense.  Pogner  warmly  thanks  his  friend 
who  has  been  good  enough  to  be  the  exact  interpreter  of 
his  sentiments ;  then  Sachs  designates  Beckmesser  as  the 
first  to  make  the  trial ;  for  some  time  the  latter  has  been 
secretly  trying  to  learn  by  heart  the  poetry  he  stole  at  the 
cobbler's,  and,  not  succeeding,  is  wiping  his  brow  and 
giving  every  sign  of  the  most  comic  despair. 

He  leaves  the  platform  of  the  Meistersinger  and 
climbs  as  well  as  he  can  upon  the  grassy  hillock,  which 
is  to  serve  as  a  rostrum  for  the  competitors,  maliciously 
helped  by  the  Apprentices,  who  make  fun  of  him,  trip- 
ping and  upsetting  him,  laughing  in  their  sleeves.  The 
people,  on  the  appearance  of  this  ungraceful  personage, 
express  their  astonishment  and  jest  half  audibly  while  the 
candidate,  after  having  made  a  very  consequential  bow  to 
Eva,  begins  the  theme  of  his  serenade,  adapting  to  it  the 
words  of  the  stolen  manuscript ;  but  his  memory  fails 
him,  he  becomes  confused,  loses  the  train  of  his  ideas, 
and  begins  to  deliver  a  flood  of  incoherent  words,  which 
make  a  most  ridiculous  and  extraordinary  hotch-potch. 

The  crowd  in  astonishment  begins  to  whisper;  but 
he  does  not  lose  either  his  assurance  or  his  presumption, 
and  persists  more  than  ever,  confounding,  interchanging, 
and  perverting  all  the  words  of  the  poetry,  thus  forming 
extravagant   phrases  ;    the  whispering  of  the  people  in- 


OF   RICHARD    WAGNER  153 

creases,  and  at  last  ends  in  a  wild  outburst  of  laughter. 
At  this  mocker\-  the  town-clerk  turns  furiously  towards 
Sachs  and  denounces  him  before  everybody  as  a  rascal 
ami  a  traitor  who  is  the  author  of  this  grotesque  work. 
Hans  calmly  picks  up  the  leaves  which  Beckmesser  has 
torn  up  and  thrown  on  the  ground,  and,  declaring  that 
he  has  nothing  whatever  to  do  with  this  poetrv,  indicates 
Walter  as  its  real  author;  at  the  same  time  he  calls 
upon  the  young  knight  to  prove  his  statement  by  sing- 
ing to  the  words  of  this  poem  the  melody  which  was 
composed  to  accompany  it.  He  passes  the  manuscript 
to  the  Meistersinger,  and  Walter,  walking  with  a  de- 
liberate step  to  the  hillock,  commences  his  song,  which 
consists  of  three  strophes. 

The  first  of  these  strophes  describes  the  wondrous 
garden,  brilliant  in  the  morning  light,  in  which  appeared 
to  him  the  woman  he  loves,  his  Eva,  who  embodies  for 
him  all  the  delights  of  Paradise.  The  second  sin<rs  the 
pure  waters  and  the  sacred  fount  towards  which  his 
Muse,  sent  from  Parnassus,  has  guided  him  ;  finally,  the 
third  exalts  at  the  same  time  both  love  and  poetrv,  since 
his  inspirer,  the  Muse  with  the  divine  face,  appeared  to 
him  under  the  form  of  his  beloved,  and  the  sweet  image 
of  Eva  is  inseparably  connected  in  his  soul  with  the  first 
manifestation  of  genius,  which  was  entirely  due  to  her 
inspiration. 

The  Meistersinger,  deeply  touched,  listen  with  delight ; 
the  people  begin  freely  to  manifest  their  admiration  for 
the  young  poet,  and,  without  awaiting  the  decision  of 
the  tribunal,  enthusiastically  proclaim  his  victory.  The 
Meistersinger  then  sanction  the  judgment  of  the  crowd 
and  award  the  prize  to  Walter  amid  general  joy.  Eva, 
who  from  the  verv  beginning  has  listened  with  ecstasy 
to  her  lover's  song,  advances,  radiant,  to  the  edge  of  the 


i54  THE    MUSIC    DRAMAS 

platform  and  places  on  the  brow  of  the  victoi,  who 
kneels  before  her,  a  crown  of  mvrtle  and  laurel  ;  then 
she  leads  him  to  her  father,  before  whom  they  both  bow 
themselves  and  who  raises  his  hands  to  bless  them. 

The  crowd  applauds  Hans,  who  has  so  judiciously 
comprehended  and  defended  the  poet,  despised  yester- 
day and  now  admired ;  but  the  good  Sachs's  task  is 
not  yet  quite  finished.  The  young  victor,  who  is  not 
at  all  anxious  for  the  Mastership  which  Pogner  wishes  to 
confer  on  him,  scorns  to  be  enrolled  in  the  body  of  the 
Meistersinger,  and  refuses  the  chain  ornamented  with  the 
image  of  King  David,  which  forms  the  insignia  of  the 
order.  Hans  explains  to  him  how  ungrateful  he  would 
be  to  behave  thus  towards  those  men  who  have  just 
awarded  him  the  prize  which  is  so  precious  to  his  happi- 
ness ;  he  also  reminds  him  of  their  great  merit  in  pre- 
serving intact  the  noble  traditions  of  German  art,  and 
ends  by  uttering  a  warm  panegyric  on  the  national 
genius  and  art,  which  he  thinks  are  menaced  by  the 
vicissitudes  through  which  the  Empire  is  passing,  and 
which  he  recommends  to  the  patriotism  and  fidelity  of  all. 

At  these  words,  the  acclamations  of  the  people  break 
out  again,  more  enthusiastically'  than  ever;  Eva  takes 
the  crown  from  Walter's  head  and  places  it  on  Sachs's  ; 
the  two  lovers  vie  with  each  other  in  doing  -him 
honour,  whilst  Pogner  bends  the  knee  in  homage  before 
him.  There  is  a  general  clapping  of  hands,  hats  are 
waved,  and  the  curtain  falls  upon  a  veritable  apotheosis 
of  the  popular  poet,  whom  the  Meistersinger  with 
universal  consent  seem  to  point  out  to  every  one  as 
their  chief. 

It  is  easv  to  see  in  the  subject  of  the  Meistersinger  a 
sort  of  gay  and  humorous  pendant  to  the  poem  of 
Tannh'duser,  and  this,  moreover,  was  in  Wagner's  mind. 


THE    TETRALOGY    OF    THE    RING    OF    THE    NIBELUNG 


DIE  WiLKTJKE 


G0TTERDAMMERO7IG 


„Tbe  I  JJ!cSIlnde  'wPf-'-      )  Nymphs  or  N 

Daughters.  (  f'losshilde  ttomr.)  I  cf  tlie  Khinu- 
Alberichlbary!.).     Hideous  gnome.    Kingofthe 

l-;vC,  ,:,  \,i;,--luw   .  !  race  of  dwarfs  and  skilful  si 


er]   (bass).       King   of    the 


9  Freia  (sopr. ).    Goddess  of 

P,„,y„ 

Lo., 

B  Faaolt  fad  hassV     One  of 

h/o°'.C 

.rd„„, 

Pd  Fafner  [the  Dragon]  (bas 
M       StigfrUd,  is  transformed  i 

*»*&£ 

:„Gi" 

«  Froh  (tenor).    God  of  Joy. 

Bro.tar 

•""■ 

DwStt.Godo(1 

tad.,. 

B""h" 

3i",d.w 

oS'  a 

^I^A^mJ 

S3;„ 

"■V 

Erda  (contr.).     Goddess  of 

Wisdom 

nd  of 

Siegmund  (tenon.      Son  of  \V...taii  nin«!tr  ilic  n.i 

[  Hundingib^i  -it       I  riret  husband  lo  Sieglinde,  who 
-U  Brunnhildeisi'iT.'.    T'.i.k-i-.r'Un.*  \v.-ri:yi-ic-,  .Lin 


Walkyries.  j     K^SelwlISS: 


i   (Wiilsel.   husband 


j  Hagen  (basil.     Son  of  ih 
]  Gutrune  (sopr.),     Daueh 


gold),  and   half-broih« 


OF    RICHARD    WAGNER  155 


THE   TETRALOGY    OF    THE    RING    OF   THE 
NIBELUNG 

The  Tetralogy,1  or  more  properly,  The  Trilogy  of 
{he  Ring  of  the  Nibelung  {Der  Ring  des  Nibelungeii},  a 
testival-play  with  a  prologue  :  Rhine-gold  {Das  RheingoLl ), 
The  IP'alkyrie  (Die  IValkure),  and  The  Dusk  of  the  Gods 
[Die  Gotterd'dmmerung),  has  been  drawn  from  the  Scan- 
dinavian Eddas  and  the  old  epic  of  the  Nibelungenlied, 
but  considerably  remodelled,  modified,  and  amplified  by 
the  marvellous  art  of  Wagner's  mighty  genius. 

The  four  dramas,  which  form  the  complete  Ring, 
develop  many  changes  of  tortune,  brought  about  by  the 
curse  which  the  Nibelung  Alberich  has  laid  upon  the 
power-endowing  Ring,  forged  by  him  from  the  Rhine- 
gold  which  he  stole  from  the  Rhine-maidens  (Undines), 
and  which,  in  turn,  Wotan  has  wrested  from  him. 
Through  many  vicissitudes  the  cursed  Ring  brings  de- 
struction on  all  who  possess  it ;  the  series  of  catastrophes 
which  it  occasions  result  in  the  final  ruin  of  the  race  of 
gods,  and  only  comes  to  an  end  when  the  last  victim, 
Briinnhilde,  who  returns  to  the  purifying  waters  of  the 
Rhine  its  stolen  treasure,  at  last  delivers  the  world  from 
the  terrible  anathema. 

The  characters  in  the  following  table  belong  to 
Scandinavian  mythology,  but  they  are  often  modified, 
sometimes,  indeed,  changed  bv  the  caprice  of  the 
author. 

We  must  accept  them  here,  not  according  to  tradi- 
tion, but  according  to  the  conception  of  Wagner's  poem, 
and  with  the  character  that  he  attributes  to  each. 

1  The  proper  title  is  Trilogy  ivitA  Prologue,  but  custom  has 
established  the  use  of  the  word  Tetralogy. 


156  THE    MUSIC    DRAMAS 

The  fact  is,  they  belong  neither  to  Northern  myth- 
ology, nor  to  that  of  the  Rhine;  but  to  Wagnerian 
mythology,  exactly  as  the  religion  of  the  Grail,  which 
we  have  met  with  in  Lohengrin  and  we  shall  again  find 
in  Parsifal,  does  not  belong  to  the  Christian  religion  but 
to  a  special  cult  which  Wagner  himself  originated 
with  the  aid  of  various  legends  which  he  altered  and 
versified. 

DAS    RHEINGOLD 

Scene  I.  —  The  action  of  the  first  scene  of  this  pro- 
logue takes  place  in  the  depths  of  the  Rhine,  among 
green  and   limpid   waters,   rocks,  and   caverns. 

The  three  Undines,  or  Nixies,  Daughters  of  the 
Rhine,  frolic  in  the  waters  whilst  guarding  the  precious 
treasure  of  pure  gold,  which  their  father  has  confided  to 
their  care. 

Alberich,  the  most  crafty,  avaricious,  and  hideous  of 
the  Nibelungs,  a  species  of  gnomes,  or  repulsive  dwarfs, 
inhabiting  the  black  realm  of  Nibelheim,  in  the  bowels 
of  the  earth,  has  glided  into  the  watery  dwelling,  and, 
full  of  voluptuous  desire,  wants  to  seduce  the  nymphs. 
In  turn  they  entice  him  with  deceitful  promises,  and 
then  mock  at  him;  but  by  their  babbling  they  reveal  the 
mystery  of  the  treasure  which  they  guard  :  the  Rhine- 
gold,  forged  into  a  Ring  by  the  bold  being  who  succeeds 
in  becoming  its  possessor,  will  confer  upon  him  an  un- 
limited  power  over  the  whole  universe,  for  he  will  be 


even  mightier  than  the  gods  themselves,  but  only  on  the 
hard  and  fast  condition  of  renouncing  love  forever. 

The  gnome,  furious  at  the  mocking  refusals  of  the 
Undines,  is  inspired  with  fresh  covetousness  by  their 
imprudent  words,  —  the  craving  for  gold  and  dominion; 
he  scales  the  rock  on  which  glitters  the  treasure,  and, 


OF    RirilARI)    WAGNER  157 

despite  the  lamentations  of  the  three  Nixies,  seizes  it, 
after  having  made  ^formal  renunciation  of  lovcj  he  will 
be  the  one  to  forge  the  enchanted  Ring  and  hold  supreme 
power.  He  departs  with  a  hurst  of  sinister  and  trium- 
phant laughter. 

The  river,  no  longer  illuminated  by  its  glittering 
treasure,  is  shrouded  in  thick  gloom,  into  which  the 
Undines  disappear  in  pursuit  of  the  rapacious  elf.1 
Dark  waves  flowing  in  from  all  sides  spread  over  the 
whole  scene,  and  then  gradually  become  calm  and  clear ; 
they  are  succeeded  by  a  heavy  fog,  which  clears  away, 
and,  illuminated  by  the  breaking  day,  a  rocky  country 
appears,  intersected  in  the  background  by  a  vale  through 
which  flows  the  invisible  Rhine.  Far  away,  on  the 
summit  of  a  high  mountain,  stands  a  castle,  with  num- 
berless pinnacles  glittering  in  the  rays  of  the  rising  sun. 

Scene  II.  —  Wotan  and  his  wife,  Fricka,  reposing  on 
a  hillock,  awake  and  contemplate  the  structure,  which 
the  giants,  Fasolt  and  Fafner,  have  just  completed 
according  to  the  god's  orders.  The  reward  promised  for 
this  work  by  the  Master  of  the  Universe,  at  the  instiga- 
tion of  the  mischievous  god,  Loge,  is  to  be  Freia,  god- 
dess of  youth,  love,  and  beauty,  sister  of  Fricka  and  of 
the  gods,  Froh  and  Donner;  but  Fricka  is  alarmed  at 
the  imminent  approach  of  the  day  of  reckoning,  for  now 
the  giants  will  come  to  claim  their  due  ;  she  reproaches 
Wotan  for  the  inconsiderate  bargain  that  he  has  made, 
and  for  building  the  palace,  which  she,  nevertheless,  had 
desired,  hoping  therein  to  keep  her  inconstant  spouse 
more  often   at   her  side. 

Wotan   promises  her   that   he  will  not  abandon  Freia, 

1  The  elves,  it  alfs,  are  of  two  kinds  •  sometimes  superior  and 
beautiful,  —  light  elves;  sometimes  inferior — the  dark  elves — ■ 
"blacker   than   pitch."        Alberich    was    a    dark    elf. 


i58 


THE    MUSIC    DRAMAS 


who  enters  in  tears,  pursued  by  Fafner  and  Fasolt.  She 
calls  her  brothers,  the  gods,  to  her  aid  ;  a  dispute 
ensues  between  them  and  the  giants,  and  threatens  to 
become  serious  when  Loge  appears,  whom  Wotan  has 
sent  all  over  the  world  in  search  of  some  compensation 
to  offer  to  the  builders  in  exchange  for  the  radiant  god- 
dess. But  Loge  has  found  nothing  which  any  one  would 
be  likely  to  prefer  to  woman  and  youth.  One  single 
creature,  the  dwarf  Alberich,  ha^j^noujicedthese_ precious 
possessions  for  the  gold  which  bestows  power,  and  he 
has  cursed  love.  Loge  tells  of  the  robbery  of  this  treas- 
ure by  the  gnome  and  the  lamentations  of  the  daughters 
of  the  river,  who  implore  the  assistance  of  the  chief  of 
the  gods.  The  avarice  of  the  giants  is  excited  at  this 
account ;  they  hold  a  long  consultation,  and  propose  to 
exchange  Frei'a  for  the  Rhine-gold.  They  make  Wotan 
promise  to  get  it  for  them,  and  they  bear  away  the  god- 
dess as  a  hostage,  reserving  the  right  to  keep  her  if  the 
treasure  is  not  promptly  forthcoming.  Hardly  have  they 
taken  Frei'a  away  when  the  gods  begin  to  fall  into  de- 
crepitude, for  she  alone  knows  how  to  cultivate  the 
golden  apples,1  which  supplied  them  with  eternal  youth. 
Wotan  then  resolves  to  descend  into  the  gloomy  king- 
dom of  the  elves  and  to  gain  the  Ring,  not  to  restore  it 
to  the  Nixies,  but  to  use  it  for  the  ransom  of  the  goddess. 
Accompanied  by  Loge,  he  penetrates  the  rocks  into  the 
bowels  of  the  earth  to  search   for  Nibelheim. 

Scene  III. — A  thick  vapour  rises  from  the  crevice 
through  which  they  pass  (brimstone  fault),  and  obscures 
the  scene  with  opaque  clouds  which  finally  envelop  it  in 

1  Only  Loge  preserves  his  vitality,  for,  as  he  is  but  a  secondary 
god,  he  does  not  partake  of  the  regenerating  food.  It  is  his  infe- 
riority, as  we  shall  see  in  the  course  of  the  drama,  that  leads  him  to 
separate  his  cause  from  that  of  the  other  gods. 


OF    RICHARD    WAGNER  159 

total  darkness.  As  the  vapours  clear  away,  a  rocky 
subterranean  cavern  is  seen ;  to  the  right,  a  passage 
ascends  to  the  surface  of  the  earth  ;  to  the  left,  in  the 
cavern  is  a  forge  with  flickering  flames  and  wreaths  of 
rosy   smoke. 

This  is  the  realm  of  the  dark  elves,  where  Albcrich, 
thanks  to  the  magic  Ring  which  he  has  forged  from  the 
Rhine-gold,  rules  over  the  other  Nibelungs,  and  makes 
them  dig  in  the  depths  of  the  earth  to  extract  its  hidden 
wealth.  He  has  forced  one  of  them,  Mime,  a  skilful 
smith,  to  forge  for  him  the  links  of  an  enchanted  helmet, 
the  "  Tarnhelm,"  which  will  render  him  invisible. 
Mime  maliciously  wants  to  keep  his  work  for  himself; 
but  Alberich,  by  means  of  the  talisman,  makes  himself 
invisible  to  his  slave  and  beats  him  unmercifully. 
Wotan  and  Loge,  who  descend  from  the  opening  of  the 
cave,  hear  the  cries  of  the  sufferer.  They  make  him 
describe  his  troubles  and  the  work  which  he  is  forced  to 
do,  and  promise  him  assistance.  At  this  moment  a  long 
line  of  Nibelungs  is  seen  defiling  past  the  cavern,  bent 
double  under  the  weight  of  ingots  and  treasure  mined  by  \  UK  ar  «i/ 
Albcrich's  orders ;  the  latter  abuses  his  brothers  and 
drives  them  before  him  with  a  whip;  but  when  he  per- 
ceives the  two  intruders,  he  turns  his  fury  against  them, 
warning  them,  as  he  recognizes  them,  of  the  revengeful 
plans  which  he  has  formed  against  their  race,  now  that 
he  has  sovereign  power.  The  outraged  Wotan  raises 
his  lance  against  the  audacious  elf;  but  the  more  shrewd 
and  politic  Loge  arrests  the  action  of  the  angry  god,  and, 
addressing  the  dwarf,  congratulates  him  upon  his  omni- 
potence, which,  however,  he  calls  into  question.  Piqued, 
and  anxious  to  exhibit  his  powers,  Alberich,  by  the  aid 
of  his  magic  casque,  transforms  himself  first  into  a 
frightful  dragon  and  then  into  a  loathsome  toad  ;    Wotan 


i6o  THE    MUSIC    DRAMAS 

and  Loge  can  then  easily  capture  him  by  setting  their 
foot  on  him.  They  have  him  at  their  mercy  ;  thev 
seize  him  by  the  throat  and  carry  their  prisoner,  foaming 
with  rage,  to  the  surface  of  the  earth. 

Scene  IV. — Vapours  fill  the  cavern  as  before;  and, 
when  they  are  dissipated,  the  second  scene  is  reproduced, 
but  the  background  is  veiled  in  mists.  Wotan  and  Loge, 
issuing  from  the  chasm,  drag  with  them  the  dwarf,  mad 
with  anger.  It  is  now  their  turn  to  mock  him.  They 
first  force  him  to  deliver  up  the  treasure  which  he  has 
amassed,  and  which,  at  his  magic  words,  the  Nibelungs 
bring  from  the  depths  of  the  earth  ;  next,  despite  his 
protestations,  they  require  the  enchanted  helmet  forged 
by  Mime ;  and  finally,  notwithstanding  his  senseless 
resistance  and  the  insults  which  he  hurls  at  them  in  his 
exasperation,  they  make  him  relinquish  the  Ring,  which 
he  wanted  to  keep  as  his  last  resource.  Alberich,  whose 
anger  is  now  beyond  all  bounds,  sees  himself  deprived  of 

/the   talisman   by  Wotan  ;  but  with  a  fierce  and   sinister 
imprecation,  he  immediately  calls  down  a  terrible  curse 
.      on  him  who  is  robbing  him  of  his  treasure  :  "  Henceforth 
^     y      may  its   charm  bring  death  to  whosoever  wears  it ;   .   .   . 
»™       may  he  who  possesses  it  be  torn  by  anguish,  and  he  who 
does   not  possess  it  be  consumed  with   envy  ;   .   .   .   may 
^  no  one  profit  by   it,  but    may  it   light  the  thief  to  his 

throat ;  .  .  .  may  the  villain  become  a  slave  to  fear; 
.  .  .  may  the  master  of  the  Ring  become  its  servant; 
.  .  .  and  may  this  endure  until  the  Nibelung  recovers 
possession  of  the  treasure  which  is  now  wrested  from 
him!" 

Having  uttered  these  terrible  words,  he  disappears  in 
the  cleft  of  the  rock.  Wotan,  who  attaches  no  impor- 
tance to  the  malediction,  quietly  slips  the  Ring  upon  his 
finger,  and  thoughtfully  contemplates  it. 


\jN? 


OF    RICHARD    WAGNER  161 

The  giants  now  come  in,  on  the  right,  for  the  treasure 
which  they  are  to  receive  in  exchange  for  Freia.  At  the 
approach  of  the  goddess  the  other  divinities  feel  their 
youth  and  vigour  returning,  and  joyfully  welcome  her; 
but  Fasolt  damps  their  enthusiasm  by  claiming  the  prom- 
ised ransom.  He  takes  his  spear  and  Fafner's,  sets 
them  up,  and  demands  that  between  them  treasure  shall 
be  heaped  up,  like  a  curtain,  till  he  can  no  longer  see 
the  enchantress  whom  he  loves  and  whose  loss  he  so 
much  regrets.  He  and  his  companion  pile  up  the  treas- 
ure, including  the  magic  helm,  but  through  an  aperture 
Frei'a's  sweet  bright  eyes  are  still  visible.  However,  all 
the  precious  treasure  is  now  gathered  together,  and  there 
now  only  remains  the  Ring  by  which  the  aperture  may 
be  closed  ;  this  the  giants  vehemently  demand.  Wotan 
refuses  ;  a  dispute  arises,  and  they  are  about  to  carry  off 
the  goddess  forever,  when  the  air  darkens  and  the  divin- 
ity Erda,  the  ancient  spirit  of  the  earth,  the  mother  of  the 
three  Norns  who  spin  the  cord  of  Destiny,  —  Erda,  who 
knows  all  things  and  dreams  of  the  future,  —  appears  in 
the  depths  of  a  grotto  among  the  rocks  faintly  illumined 
with  a  pale  light.  She  already  foresees  the  gloomy  end 
of  the  gods,  and  begs  Wotan  to  give  up  the  marvellous 
but  cursed  Ring.  Wotan,  astonished  at  her  words,  ques- 
tions her:  he  wishes  to  know  more,  and  darts  towards 
the  mysterious  cave  to  force  her  to  explain ;  but  the 
prophetess  has  already  vanished  ;  and  the  god  then  falls 
into  profound  meditation,  and  at  last  makes  a  decisive 
resolution  and  throws  the  Ring  upon  the  pile.  The 
giants  immediately  begin  to  wrangle  over  it,  thus  being 
the  first  to  experience  the  effects  of  the  curse  which  the 
Nibelung  has  laid  upon  it :  they  come  to  blows,  and 
Fafner,  with  a  brutal  stroke,  stretches  Fasolt  dead  at  his 
feet.      Fafner   thus   remains    the    sole   possessor   of   the 


i6i  THE    MUSIC    DRAMAS 

cursed  Ring  and  the  treasures  ;  he  calmly  collects  them 
in  a  large  sack  which  he  has  brought  with  him,  and  dis- 
appears, dragging  it  after  him,  without  casting  even  a 
glance  at  his  brother's  corpse.  The  gods  are  mute  with 
horror;  the  sky  darkens,  and  a  gloomy  cloud  gathers. 

Donner,  the  god  of  storm,  in  order  to  restore  the 
serenity  of  the  sky,  calls  all  the  clouds  to  him  and  disap- 
pears in  a  shower;  the  thunder  growls,  the  lightning 
flashes,  then  the  vapours  break  away  and  reveal  a  won- 
derful rainbow,  made  in  a  marvellously  short  time  by 
Froh  out  of  the  tempest,  to  serve  as  a  bridge  by  which  to 
gain  the  inaccessible  castle.  Wotan,  after  having  picked 
up  a  sword  forgotten  by  Fafner,  and  which  formed  a  part 
of  his  treasure,  invites  the  gods  to  enter  with  him  into 
Walhalla,  for  which  he  has  paid  an  accursed  price  ;  but 
he  foresees  the  struggle  that  he  will  have  to  maintain 
against  the  powers  of  darkness.  The  wily  Loge,  who  is 
also  filled  with  the  same  presentiments  as  Wotan,  thinks 
about  separating  his  cause  from  that  of  the  other  gods 
and  raisins  his  own  fortune  on  the  ruin  of  theirs. 

From  the  depths  of  the  valley  the  Rhine-Daughters 
are  heard  wailing  for  their  lost  treasure;  the  gods 
answer  them  with  pitiless  laughter,  and  proceed  along 
the  luminous  path  which  lies  before  them. 

The  curtain  closes  slowly. 


DIE  WALKURE 
Act  I. 

Scene  I. — The  action  passes  in  a  large  rustic  cabin 
built  around  an  enormous  ash,  whose  roots  extend  over 
the  ground  and  whose  mighty  branches  pierce  the  roof. 
In  the  trunk  of  the  tree  is  visible  the  hilt  of  a  sword,  the 


left  are  steps  leading  to  a  room. 

The  storm  is  howling  outside,  thecab[njs_4esert(  d. 


OF    RICHARD    WAGNER  163 

entire  blade  of  which  is  buried,  and  its  handle  is  indis- 
tinct in  the  shadow.  In  the  foreground,  on  the  right,  is 
a  hearth,  before  which  is  a  heap  of  skins  forming  a  kind 
of  couch.  At  the  foot  of  the  tree,  which  occupies  the 
whole  centre  of  the  stage,  are  a  rustic  table  and  stools. 
Behind  the  hearth,  steps  lead  to   a  store-room.      On  the 

ne  siorm  is  iiowimg  ouimuc,  me  cauui_i^_^c5ciicu.  ^s 

The  door  at  the  back  is  roughly  opened  and  admits  . 
an  unarmed  warrior,  with  his  clothes  in  disorder,  and 
looking  quite  exhausted ;  everything  about  him  pro- 
claims the  fugitive.  After  examining  the  deserted  room, 
he  sinks  on  the  furs  before  the  hearth,  and,  giving  way 
to  weariness,  is  soon  asleep. 

The  mistress  of  the  rustic  dwelling,  Sieglinde,  comes 
in,  and,  seeing  in  astonishment  the  stranger,  she  awakes 
him  and  inquires  into  his  condition  with  solicitude;  she 
gives  him  drink,  and  learns  that,  tracked  by  his  enemies 
and  betrayed  by  his  weapons,  which  broke  in  his  hand, 
he  had  to  seek  safety  in  flight.  He  accepts  the  mead 
which  Sieglinde  pours  out  for  him,  and  which,  accord- 
ing to  custom,  he  asks  her  to  taste  first,  but  he  wants  to 
leave  her  hospitable  shelter  without  delay,  because  he 
brings  misfortune  wherever  he  stays.  Alas !  she  an- 
swers, sadness  has  long  been  a  dweller  in  this  house  ; 
he  will  not  bring  it ;  and  she  begs  him  to  await  the 
return  of  her  husband,  Hunding,  who  will  soon  come 
back  from  the  chase. 

Sckne  II. — They  earnestly  gaze  upon  each  other  with 
a  constantly  growing  interest,  when  suddenly  the  master 
of  the  hut  is  heard  outside  ;  he  appears  upon  the  thresh- 
old, surprised  at  the  presence  of  the  stranger,  and  looks 
at  Sieglinde  with  a  questioning  glance.  Having  received 
her  explanations,  he  asks   his  guest  to  tell   him  his  story, 


j64  THE    MUSIC    DRAMAS 

and  makes  him  sit  down  at  the  table  with  them.  One 
thing  strikes  him  as  the  stranger  talks,  and  that  is  the 
strange  resemblance  that  there  is  between  his  wife  and 
the  new-comer. 

The  latter  then  tells  of  his  life,  which  seems  to  be 
devoted  to  misfortune.  His  infancy  had  been  spent 
happily  with  his  father,  who  was  named  Walse  (the 
Wolf),  his  mother,  and  a  twin  sister.  But  one  day,  on 
his  return  with  his  father  from  the  chase,  he  found 
their  dwelling  reduced  to  ashes  and  his  mother  slain  ;  as 
for  his  young  sister,  no  trace  had  ever  been  found  of  her. 
The  authors  of  this  crime  were  the  Neidungs,  sons  of 
Hatred  and  Envy.  From  that  moment,  his  father  and  he 
had  wandered  in  the  forest  until  the  day  when  the  old 
man,  tracked  in  his  turn  by  enemies,  had  disappeared. 

As  for  himself,  ceaselessly  hunted  by  destiny,  which 
has  gained  for  him  the  name  of  Wehwalt  (the  Cause  of 
Misfortune),  repulsed  by  every  one,  and  weaponless,  he 
has  just  experienced  a  final  defeat  in  an  attempt  to 
liberate  a  defenceless  maiden  whose  relations  were  going 
to  give  her  up  to  a  hated  lover;  the  woman  he  protected 
was  killed  before  his  eyes,  whilst  he,  overwhelmed  by 
numbers,  was  forced  to  give  up  the  fight. 

From  the  first  words  of  this  story,  to  which  Sieglinde 
has  been  listening  with  deep  emotion,  Hunding  re- 
cognizes in  the  fugitive  an  enemy  of  his  race  whom  he 
has  just  been  called  upon  to  fight  by  his  own  people. 
He,  nevertheless,  grants  him  hospitality  for  that  night, 
but  at  break  of  day  he  will  provoke  him  to  the  combat 
without  mercy.  He  retires  with  threats  and  orders  his 
wife  to  follow  him,  after  having  prepared  his  evening 
draught.  Sieglinde,  absorbed  in  her  thoughts,  goes  to  a 
cupboard  for  spices  which  she  mingles  in  her  lord's 
drink,  then,  as   she  departs,  she   casts  a  long  and  tender 


OF    RICHARD    WAGNER  .165 

00k  at  the  stranger  and  seems  to  point  out  to  him  the 
trunk  of  the  ash  in  which  the  sword  is  imbedded. 
Hunding,  surprising  this  glance,  orders  her  to  go  to  her 
room,  where  he  is  heard  shutting  himself  in  with  her. 

Scene  III. — The  scene  is  now  illumined  by  the  dying 
fire  on  the  hearth,  which,  as  it  expires,  casts  its  light  on 
the  hilt  of  the  sword  and  makes  it  gleam  in  the  shadows. 
The  warrior,  without  noticing  it,  anxiously  asks  himself 
if  he  will  find  the  sword  which  his  father  promised  him 
of  old  for  his  defence  in  his  supreme  need  :  then  his 
thoughts  take  another  course ;  he  thinks  with  delight  of 
Sieglinde's  beauty  and  of  the  deep  feeling  which  she  has 
awakened  in  his  heart. —  Is  the  ray  which  lights  up  the 
tree  the  radiance  left  there  by  the  bright  glances  of  his 
beloved  ?  But  the  fire  is  expiring;  it  is  almost  total 
darkness,  and  Sieglinde,  clad  in  white,  stealthily  leaves 
her  room  and  advances  towards  her  guest. 

She  has  given  her  husband  an  opiate  draught  in  order  to 
gain  an  opportunity  to  converse  with  him  whose  sight  has 
captured  her  heart.  She  tells  him  that  on  the  day  of  her 
sad  nuptials  with  Hunding,  to  whom  she  had  been  sold 
by  brigands,  an  old  man,  draped  in  a  large  mantle  and 
wearing  a  wide  hat  concealing  one  of  his  eyes,  had  en- 
tered the  hut,  terrifying  every  one  but  her,  who  felt  in  this 
old  man  a  protector  and  recognized  in  him  the  features 
of  a  beloved  father.  Driving  a  sword  up  to  the  hilt 
into  the  trunk  of  the  ash,  he  promised  that  that  steel 
should  belong  to  the  hero  who  succeeded  in  drawing  it 
from  its  living  sheath.  So  far  no  one  has  succeeded, 
despite  numerous  attempts,  but  Sieglinde  feels  that  the 
conqueror  will  be  the  friend  whom  fate  has  sent  her,  —  he 
who  will  have  power  to  heal  the  wounds  in  her  heart, 
and  to  whom,  in  a  passionate  outburst,  she  promises  the 
gift   of  her   own   person.     The  son  of  Walsc  ardently 


166  THE    MUSIC    DRAMAS 

embraces  her ;  they  gaze  upon  each  other  with  intoxica- 
tion, when  the  door  of  the  hut  opens,  moved  by  an  in- 
visible hand,  and  reveals  the  forest  bathed  in  the  soft 
atmosphere  of  a  radiant  night  and  flooded  with  the  white 
moonlight  which  casts  its  luminous  beams  on  the  two 
lovers,  who  are  thus  able  to  gaze  upon  each  other  in 
delight.  "  Who  went  out  ?  "  murmurs  Sieglinde  in  fear. 
■ — No  one,  but  some  one  came  in  ;  it  is  sweet  Spring, 
Spring  who  comes  to  sing  its  epithalamium  to  them  and 
to  celebrate  the  Love  which  blossoms  deep  in  their 
hearts. 

Looking  more  closely  at  her  beloved,  Sieglinde  thinks 
she  has  seen  him  at  some  former  time  ;  their  memories 
are  awakened  together.  That  piercing  glance,  which 
they  both  possess,  is  the  distinctive  mark  of  the  heroic 
race  of  the  Walsungs  ;  they  are  children  of  the  same  father, 
and  Siegmund  must  be  the  name  of  the  hero  for  whom 
Walse  destined  the  mighty  sword.  For  him  also  is 
reserved  the  task  of  delivering  Sieglinde  from  the  hateful 
yoke  that  keeps  her  in  bondage.  Siegmund,  in  an  ecs- 
tasy of  enthusiasm,  springs  toward  the  ash,  and,  seizing 
the  sword  by  the  hilt,  tears  it  out  with  irresistible  force, 
calling  it  Nothung,  the  weapon  promised  for  his  distress. 
Sieglinde,  in  a  delirium  of  joy  and  love,  throws  herself 
into  the  arms  of  her  lover. 

The  curtain  quickly  closes. 

Act  II. 

Scene  I. — The  scene  represents  a  mountainous,  sax- 
age,  and  arid  country  ;  on  the  right,  a  road  cut  in  the 
rock  leads  to  a  kind  of  stonv  platform.  Under  this 
ledge  is  a  grotto.  In  the  centre  of  the  stage  there  is  a 
narrow  passage  with  a  chaos  of  rocks  in  the  background  ; 
then,  to  the  left  is  another  heap  of  rocks  from  which  a 


OF    RICHARD    WAGNER  167 

road    rises,    turning    and    leading    to    the    rocks   in    the 
background. 

Wot  an  charges  his  favourite  daughter,  the  virgin  war- 
rior, Brunnhilde,  with  the  fate  or"  Sicgmund,  whom  he 
wishes  to  be  victorious  in  his  fight  with  Hunding.  The 
Walkyrie  departs,  happy  with  the  mission  intrusted  to 
her,  uttering  her  war-cry  and  announcing  to  her  father 
the  approach  of  the  goddess  Fricka,  who  arrives  in  a 
chariot  drawn  by  two  rams  ;  she  has  come  to  combat 
her  husband's  resolution. 

The  guilty  love  of  Sicgmund  and  Sieglinde  outrages 
her,  the  guardian  of  the  sacred  ties  of  marriage  and  of 
the  familv,  and  she  claims  the  victory  for  Hunding,  the 
wronged  husband,  who  has  placed  his  defence  in  her 
hands.  In  vain  the  god  upholds  the  cause  of  those 
who  love  one  another  and  whom  he  considers  free  to 
follow  the  dictates  of  their  love;  in  vain  he  explains  to 
the  goddess  the  imperative  reasons  he  has  in  preserving 
Sicgmund  to  accomplish  that  course  of  action  which  will 
save  the  gods  from  extreme  peril :  the  goddess,  already 
wounded  a  hundred  times  bv  the  infidelities  of  her  vola- 
tile husband,  has  been  willing  to  put  up  with  the  pres- 
ence of  the  Walkyries,  his  illegitimate  daughters,  who, 
at  least,  are  respectful  of  her  authority  ;  but  if  the  god 
persists  in  protecting  this  criminal  couple,  a  living  testi- 
mony to  his  amours  with  a  mortal,  when,  under  the 
name  of  Walse,  he  wandered  in  the  forests,  that  is 
something   she  will    not   tolerate. 

Wotan,deep  down  in  his  heart,  is  forced  to  recognize 
the  justice  of  his  companion's  words.  Does  she  not 
represent  the  established  order  and  the  wisdom  of  affairs, 
and  did  he  not  once  pav  for  his  precious  conquest  by 
the  loss  of  one  of  his  eves,  when  he  wished  to  drink  at 
the  source  of  wisdom  ? 


168  THE    MUSIC    DRAMAS 

After  a  violent  struggle  with  himself,  he  takes  the 
oath  Fricka  demands,  and  remains  a  prey  to  a  deep  grief, 
while  the  goddess  departs,  strong  in  the  promise  she 
has  gained,  and  he  calls  Briinnhilde  to  give  her  fresh 
instructions. 

Scene  II.  —  The  Walkyrie,  disquieted  at  Fricka's 
triumphant  look,  hastily  approaches  her  father,  whom 
she  finds  much  cast  down  by  the  attack  he  has  just  suf- 
fered and  the  oath  he  has  been  forced  to  make.  Grieved 
at  the  distress  of  her  beloved  father,  she  casts  away  her 
arms  and  shield,  and  falls  down  before  him  in  an  attitude 
eloquent  of  trust  and  affection ;  she  begs  him  to  un- 
burden his  heart  to  her.  He  then  confides  in  his  favour- 
ite child,  who  is  the  mightiest  expression  of  his  will  and 
of  his  most  intimate  thought.  Before  her  he,  diving 
into  the  deepest  recesses  of  his  heart,  reviews  the  faults 
which  have  led  to  this  result :  the  ambition  which  took 
possession  of  his  heart  when  the  ardour  of  legitimate 
love  died  down  within  him  ;  the  obligations  he,  contrac- 
ted in  his  greed  for  power  and  at  the  advice  of  the 
crafty  Loge  to  render  the  other  gods  subservient ;  and 
the  robbery  of  the  Ring,  which  has  brought  upon  him 
the  implacable  hatred  of  the  Nibelung  Alberich.  This 
Ring  should  have  been  restored  to  the  depths  of  the 
Rhine  to  bring  to  an  end  all  the  dangers  which  it  has 
excited,  but  Wotan  used  it  in  payment  for  the  castle 
Walhalla,  which  the  giants  built,  and  it  is  now  the 
property  of  Fafner,  who  guards  it  with  jealous  care 
deep  in  his   cave. 

In  his  distress,  the  god  wanted  to  consult  Erda,  who 
had  already  on  one  occasion  given  him  salutary  advice; 
he  compelled  her  to  tell  him  all  her  thoughts  ;  then, 
seducing  her  by  means  of  a  love-philtre,  he  made  her  the 
mother  of  the  nine  warrior-virgins,  Briinnhilde  and   her 


OF   RICHARD    WAGNER  169 

sisters,  of  whom  he  wished  to  make  use  as  the  instru- 
ments of  his  safety :  the  Walkyries  have  received  from 
him  the  mission  of  bringing  to  Walhalla  all  heroes  who 
die  on  the  Held  of  battle,  and  thus  peopling  the  kingdom 
of  Wotan  with  intrepid  defenders  in  preparation  for  the 
day  when  Alberich's  army  will  threateningly  advance 
against  him.  Hut  all  these  precautions  will  be  vain  if 
the  gnome  can  again  possess  himself  of  the  cursed  Ring  ; 
this  must  be  prevented  at  all  costs,  and  yet  Wotan  can- 
not deprive  Fafner  of  what  he  formerly  gave  him.  Only 
one  being  can  accomplish  that  task:  this  must  be  a  hero 
free  and  independent,  who  will  do  the  work  involun- 
tarily, and  without  having  received  the  mission.  The 
god  had  chosen  his  son,  Siegmund,  to  be  this  hero;  for 
long  years  he  has  prepared  him  for  this  act  of  redemp- 
tion :  he  has  wandered  with  him  in  the  forests,  stimu- 
lating him  to  temerity  ;  he  has  armed  him  with  an 
invincible  sword:  but  what  now  avails  all  this  care, 
since  Fricka  has  compelled  her  husband  to  bow  to  her 
wishes  ? 

Wotan's  fury  and  despair  break  out  at  the  thought  of 
abandoning  him  whom  he  loves  and  wished  to  protect, 
and,  in  his  desolation,  he  curses  his  own  sovereignty  and 
wishes  the  gods  may  come  to  an  end.  He  can  foresee 
that  end  ;  Erda  has  announced  it  for  the  day  when  a  son 
shall  be  born  to  Alberich  :  now  this  child  is  on  the  way, 
he  is  about  to  come  into  the  world  ;  and  Wotan,  in  the 
heat  of  his  anger,  bequeaths  to  him  the  torments  and 
fatal  splendours   of  divinity. 

In  vain  does  Briinnhilde  plead  the  cause  of  Siegmund, 
whom  she  knows  her  father  loves ;  she  will  act  in 
accordance  with  the  god's  secret  wishes,  notwithstand- 
ing his  oath ;  but  Wotan  is  immovable ;  he  bitterly 
enjoins   her  to  obey  Fricka ;   and,  threatening  the  Wal- 


1 7o  THE    MUSIC    DRAMAS 

kyrie  with  chastisement  if  she  attempts  to  transgress  his 
orders,  he  departs   into  the   mountains. 

Briinnhilde,  terrified,  sadly  gathers  up  her  arms  and 
takes  her  way  to  the  grotto  where  rests  her  horse, 
Grane,  at  the  same  time  watching  Siegmund  and  Sieg- 
linde,  who  are  ascending  the   ravine. 

Scene  III.  —  Sieglinde,  deaf  to  the  words  of  love 
which  Siegmund  is  murmuring  in  her  ear,  is  beseeching 
him  to  flee  without  delay  ;  she  no  longer  wishes  to  give 
herself  to  him  she  loves  after  having  belonged  by  force 
to  a  hated  master. 

The  distant  sounds  of  the  horn  and  hounds  make  her 
tremble ;  her  lover  will  not  be  able  to  fight  so  many 
adversaries,  and  his  sword  will  be  powerless  to  defend 
him.  Mad  with  grief  and  agony,  hearing  the  enemy 
coming  nearer,  in  her  hallucination  she  thinks  she  sees 
her  lover  become  the  prey  of  the  furious  dogs,  and, 
uttering  a  piercing  cry,  she  falls  fainting.  Siegmund 
carefully  places  her  on  the  ground,  and,  kissing  her 
brow,  he  sits  down  upon, a  hillock  and  rests  her  beloved 
head  on  his  knees. 

Scene  IV.  —  Meanwhile  Briinnhilde  advances,  gravely 
leading  her  noble  charger.  She  appears  to  the  warrior 
and  announces  that  he  is  destined  to  perish  in  the 
coming  combat ;  she  comes  only  to  heroes  who  are 
devoted  to  a  glorious  death  :  he  must  prepare  to  follow 
her  to  Walhalla.  Siegmund  in  contempt  of  death  asks 
her  if  in  the  abode  of  the  gods  he  will  find  his  beloved  Sieg- 
linde again.  —  No,  answers  Briinnhilde,  the  Walkyries 
will  pour  out  the  mead  for  him ;  Sieglinde  must  still 
remain  upon  this  earth.  — The  warrior  then  refuses  the 
joys  of  the  enchanted  abode  if  he  may  not  share  them 
with  his  beloved  companion ;  he  will  fight  Hunding 
without   fear,  thanks  to  the    invincible  weapon,  of  the 


OF    RICHARD    WAGNER  171 

success  of  which  he  has  been  assured  by  his  father;  but 
if  the  latter  now  withdraws  his  protection,  if  he  must 
die,  let  Hclla  l  take  him:  he  docs  not  wish  to  share  the 
fate  of  the  immortals,  and  before  dying  he  will  kill  his 
betrothed,  so  that  no  other  being  shall  touch  her  living. 
He  draws  his  sword  and  is  about  to  transpierce  the  still 
fainting  Sieglinde ;  in  vain  docs  Brunnhilde  reveal  to 
him  that  in  striking  his  companion  he  will  destroy  two 
lives,  for  Sieglinde  bears  within  her  a  pledge  of  his  love; 
even  then  he  is  going  to  give  the  fatal  blow,  when  the 
Walkyne,  touched  with  compassion  by  such  fidelity,  stays 
his  arm,  and,  granting  him  her  support  and  assistance  in 
the  hour  of  combat,  promises  to  meet  him  on  the  field 
of  battle,  and  departs  with  Granc.  Siegmund,  trans- 
figured with  happiness,  follows  her  with  his  eyes  as  she 
goes. 

Scene  V.  —  He  gently  places  the  sleeping  Sieglinde 
on  a  stone  seat,  and  hastens  in  the  direction  of  the 
enemy,  amid  heavy  storm-clouds  which  form  and  darken 
all  the  background  of  the  scene.  The  martial  trumpet- 
ings  of  the  pursuer  come  nearer  and  nearer. 

Sieglinde,  in  her  dream,  recalls  her  memories  of 
childhood  :  she  again  sees  the  fatal  fire  which  consumed 
her  home  and  dispersed  her  relations,  then  she  is  sud- 
denlv  awakened  by  the  noise  of  the  thunder  rolling  on 
every  side ;  from  the  rocks,  at  the  back,  which  are  cano- 
pied with  clouds,  are  heard  the  voices  of  the  two  com- 
batants, Siegmund  and  Hundiug,  defying  each  other. 
Sieglinde  tries  to  run  to  separate  them,  but  she  is  blinded 
by  the  lightning,  and  totters.  Then  Brunnhilde  is  seen 
in  the  air  above  Siegmund,  shielding  him  and  encourag- 
ing him  with   her  voice;   he  is  about  to  give   Hunding  a 

***  Hella    personifies   common    death:   to  her   belong  those  who 
perish  otherwise  than  in  battle. 


1 72  THE   MUSIC    DRAMAS 

mortal  blow,  when  Wotan,  appearing  in  turn  in  a  blaze 
of  fire,  extends  his  spear  between  the  two  foes  ;  at  its 
contact,  Siegmund's  sword  breaks,  and  Hunding  is  able 
to  plunge  his  weapon  into  his  heart.  Darkness  over- 
spreads the  scene  ;  and  Briinnhilde  is  scarcely  visible  as 
she  raises  the  inanimate  Sieglinde  and  places  her  on  her 
charger  to  carry  her  off.  At  this  moment  the  cloud 
parts  and  discloses  Hunding  withdrawing  his  sword  from 
Siegmund's  body.  Wotan  despairingly  gazes  on  the 
body  of  his  son,  and  darts  so  terrible  a  look  at  Hunding 
that  he  falls,  stricken,  at  his  feet ;  then  the  god  lets 
loose  his  furious  rage  on  the  rebellious  daughter  who  has 
dared  to  disobey  him,  and  starts  in  pursuit  to  punish 
her. 

The  curtain  closes  rapidly. 

Act    III. 

Scene  I. — The  stage  represents  a  rocky  plateau  at 
the  top  of  the  mountain.  Some  fir-woods  contribute  a 
meagre  verdure  to  the  place ;  in  the  distance,  separated 
from  the  foreground  by  wide  valleys,  are  other  peaks, 
which,  in  the  first  scenes,  are  hidden  by  fogs  driven  by 
the  wind  and  constantly  rising  from  the  hollows.  On  the 
right  is  a  rocky  eminence,  up  which  is  a  kind  of  stairway  ; 
in  the  centre  of  the  stage  is  a  bare  block  which  serves 
as  a  post  of  observation  over  the  valley.  On  the  left 
are  several  footpaths  leading  to  the  plateau  ;  at  the  back, 
a  pine,  much  larger  than  its  fellows,  spreads  its  wide 
arms  above  its  mighty  roots. 

Four  of  the  Walkyries,  Gerhilde,  Ortlinde,  Waltraute, 
and  Schwertleite,  armed  from  head  to  foot,  have  stationed 
themselves  in  observation  on  the  summit  of  the  rocks  on 
the  right ;  they  utter  their  war-cry  to  call  their  sisters, 
who,  with  the  exception  of  Briinnhilde,  arrive,  one  by 


OF    RICHARD    WAGNER  173 

one,  riding  through  the  air  in  swift  clouds,  and  having 
attached  to  their  saddles  the  bodies  of  warriors  who  have 
died  as  heroes  and  who  are  destined  for  Walhalla.  The 
newcomers,  Helmwige,  Siegrune,  Grimgerde,  and  Ross- 
weisse,  pasture  their  horses,  which  are  still  animated 
with  the  ardour  of  the  fight,  whilst  awaiting  the  tardy 
Brunnhilde,  who  soon  appears,  breathless  and  mounted 
on  her  noble  horse,  Grane,  and  with  a  living  woman, 
Sieglinde,  on  the  croup. 

In  answer  to  her  sisters'  questions,  she  tells  them  that 
she  is  fleeing  from  the  anger  of  Wotan,  whom  she  has 
dared  to  disobey  and  who  is  pursuing  her  in  fierce  anger. 
She  beseeches  them  to  help  her  save  her  protegee  ;  but  the 
Walkyries  are  unwilling  to  draw  down  upon  themselves 
the  anger  of  the  god,  and  refuse.  Sieglinde,  in  despair 
at  having  survived  her  lover,  reproaches  Brunnhilde  for 
having  robbed  her  of  death  and  adjures  her  to  plunge  her 
sword  into  her  heart ;  but  Brunnhilde  tells  her  that  she 
bears  a  Walsung  in  her  bosom,  that  she  must  live  to  pre- 
serve the  life  of  that  son,  who  will  soon  be  born  and  who 
will  be  a  valiant  hero.  Sieglinde,  at  first  terrified  and 
then  seized  with  a  great  joy,  now  wishes  to  live  at  all 
costs  ;  by  the  advice  of  the  Walkyries,  and  for  the  sake 
of  saving  her  child,  she  will  take  refuge  alone  in  the 
forest  which  extends  toward  the  east  and  where  dwells 
Fafner,  the  jealous  guardian  of  the  fatal  treasure.  Wo- 
tan never  bends  his  steps  in  that  direction;  she  will 
therefore  be  safe  in  that  retreat. 

But  they  must  make  haste,  for  the  storm,  which  is  the 
precursor  of  Wotan's  arrival,  is  coming  nearer  and  nearer  ; 
lightnings  play  among  the  clouds,  and  Waltraute  soon 
signals  the  arrival  of  the  Father  of  the  Gods. 

Brunnhilde  hastens  the  flight  of  the  unfortunate 
woman,  exhorting  her  courageously  to  support  the  rude 


174  THE   MUSIC    DRAMAS 

life  which  she  is  going  to  lead  in  solitude,  and  promises 
her  that  the  child  she  bears  within  her  shall  be  a  hero, 
supreme  above  all.  His  name  shall  be  Siegfried,  and  his 
mother  must  arm  him  with  his  father's  sword,  which  is 
none  other  than  the  Sword  of  the  Gods,  shattered  by 
Wotan  himself  in  the  fatal  combat,  the  fragments  of 
which  the  Walkyrie  has  carefully  collected,  and  now 
confides  them  to  Sieglinde.  The  fugitive  blesses  Briinn- 
hilde  for  her  tender  care  and  darts  into  the  forest  in  the 
direction  of  the  retreat  designated. 

During  this  last  scene  the  storm  has  redoubled  in 
intensity. 

Scene  II.  —  Amid'  the  rollings  of  the  thunder  Wotan's 
voice  is  heard  grumbling  and  chiding  ;  Briinnhilde  can 
flee  no  further ;  pale  and  distracted,  she  tries  to  hide  her- 
self among  her  sisters ;  they  vainly  seek  to  conceal  her 
from  the  eyes  of  her  father,  who,  consumed  with  terrible 
anger,  calls  the  culprit.  The  virgin  then  separates  her- 
self from  the  group  of  Walkyries,  and,  with  a  respectful 
but  firm  and  heroic  attitude,  comes  to  submit  to  the 
will  of  her  judge.  He  then  breaks  out  into  a  storm  of 
reproaches  against  this  daughter  who  was  formerly  the 
dearest  of  all,  whom  he  delighted  to  entrust  with  the 
most  glorious  missions,  who  was  the  child  of  his  heart, 
and  who  now,  a  rebel,  has  dared  to  brave  him.  She 
has  sealed  her  own  fate  :  he  exiles  her  from  Walhalla, 
disowns  her,  and  deprives  her  forever  of  her  divine 
nature.  He  will  leave  her  defenceless,  asleep  by  the 
wayside,  and  the  first  passer-by  who  wakes  her  may 
make  her  his  slave  ;  she  shall  spin  flax  in  subjection  to  a 
mortal,  and  shall  be  the  laughing-stock  of  all. 

The  other  Walkyries  utter  cries  of  despair,  vainly  try- 
ing to  move  their  father,  who  threatens  them  with  the 
same  fate  if  they  attempt  to  defend  the  rebel.      They  go 


OF    RICHARD    WAGNER 


*75 


away  with  wild  cries  of  distress,  and  are  soon  seen  on  their 
horses  in  the  distance,  disappearing  among  the  clouds. 

The  tempest,  which  has  been  raging  the  whole  time, 
now  gradually  abates  ;  the  masses  of  vapour  are  dissi- 
pated, and  a  serene  night  succeeds  the  uproar  and 
enfolds   the   landscape. 

Scene  III.  —  Briinnhilde,  who  has  been  prostrated  at 
the  feet  of  the  god,  raises  her  head  and  tries  to  meet  her 
father's  eye  to  implore  his  forgiveness.  She  beseeches 
him  to  regard  her  fault  with  more  leniency  :  is  her  crime 
of  such  an  infamous  nature  as  to  merit  so  degrading  and 
cruel  a  penalty  ?  At  first  he  had  commanded  her  to  up- 
hold and  bring  about  the  triumph  of  the  Walsung  ;  it 
was  only  under  the  duresse  of  a  forced  promise  that  he 
deprived  his  son  of  his  protection  ;  but  she,  Briinnhilde, 
the  child  of  his  heart,  thought  she  would  act  in  accord- 
ance with  his  inner  thoughts  and  secret  desires  by  help- 
ing Siegmund  at  any  cost.  —  No,  replies  Wotan,  she 
should  not  have  arrogated  to  herself  the  right  of  acting 
as  he  would  personally  have  been  so  willing  to  do  had  it 
not  been  for  the  fatal  oath  exacted  by  Fricka  ;  at  the 
very  moment  when  her  father,  tortured  by  destiny,  was 
dreaming  in  despair  of  annihilating  himself  once  for  all, 
she  should  not  have  yielded  to  the  sweet  pleasure  of 
hearkening  to  her  own  tender  compassion  ;  the  god  per- 
sists in  his  harsh  judgment  :  he  banishes  her  forever 
from  his  presence,  and,  since  she  has  of  her  own  will 
allowed  herself  to  be  swayed  by  love,  she  shall  hence- 
forth be  the  slave  of  love. 

The  unfortunate  Walkyrie  entreats  her  father  to  con- 
sider that,  although  he  deprives  her  of  her  Walhalla  life, 
she  formerly  formed  a  part  of  his  divine  being,  and  that 
he  would  be  dishonouring  himself  to  give  her  up  to  the 
first   comer,  perchance   a   coward.      A  new  hero,  adven- 


1 76  THE    MUSIC   DRAMAS 

turous  and  brave,  is  about  to  be  born  to  the  race  of  the 
Wiilsungs  j  let  him  be  her  saviour  and  her  master  !  — 
At  the  reiterated  refusal  of  the  god,  she  prays  him  at 
least  to  permit  a  terrible  barrier  to  be  raised  around  her 
during  her  fatal  sleep,  in  order  that  none  but  a  mortal  to 
whom  fear  is  unknown  may,  in  triumphing  over  the 
danger,  achieve  the  conquest.  The  god,  at  last,  touched 
by  the  heroic  courage  of  his  unfortunate  child,  feels  his 
paternal  heart  melt  before  a  spirit  so  proud  under  dis- 
tress ;  he  consents  to  accede  to  her  last  wish  :  around 
her  he  will  raise  a  burning  barrier,  whose  devouring 
flames  will  frighten  away  the  timid,  and  which  the 
desired  hero  will  alone  be  able  to  pass ;  then,  raising 
her,  he  holds  her  to  his  heart  in  a  long  embrace,  saying 
many  tender  farewell  words.  —  These  lips,  which  so 
joyously  sang  the  glory  of  heroes,  must  be  silent ;  these 
luminous  eyes,  which  he  has  so  often  fondly  kissed  and 
whose  glance  has  so  often  comforted  him  in  hours  of 
sadness,  must  be  closed  forever  for  the  unfortunate  god, 
and  may  only  open  for  the  happy  mortal  who  will  suc- 
ceed in  gaining  her.  —  With  a  supreme  kiss,  he  takes 
away  her  divinity  and  closes  her  eyelids.  Brunnhilde, 
overcome  with  drowsiness,  slowly  falls  asleep;  he  then 
takes  her  to  a  mossy  bank  shaded  by  a  wide-branched  fir, 
in  the  shelter  of  which  he  lays  her  inanimate  form.  He 
gazes  upon  her  with  emotion,  then  he  closes  her  casque, 
sets  her  lance  beside  her  as  a  sign  of  authority,  and 
covers  her  with  her  long  steel  Walkyrie   shield. 

Then,  striking  the  rock  three  times  with  his  spear,  he 
evokes  Loge,  the  god  of  fire.  A  flame  springs  up, 
increases  in  volume,  and  soon  surrounds  the  rock  with  a 
fear-inspiring  and  magnificent  belt  of  fire,  forming  an  in- 
accessible rampart  around  the  sleeping  virgin. 

The  curtain  closes  very  slowly. 


OF    RICHARD    WAGNER  i-jy 

SIEGFRIED 

Act  I. 

Scene  I.  —  The  scenery  shows  a  large  cavern  in  the 
midst  of  the  forest,  in  which  Mime  has  established  his 
dwelling  and  forge.  At  the  hack,  on  the  right,  there 
are  large  natural  openings  through  which  is  visible  the 
verdure  of  the  sunlit  woods.  On  the  right,  in  the  fore- 
ground, is  a  bed  covered  with  skins  of  animals  ;  in  the 
middle  distance,  on  the  left,  are  the  hearth  and  bellows 
of  the  forge,  from  which  the  smoke  escapes  by  a  vast 
natural  chimney.  In  the  foreground  is  a  cupboard  in 
which  the  gnome  keeps  his  food.  Thick  cinders  lie 
over  everything. 

Mime,  with  growls  and  curses,  is  forging  a  new  sword 
for  Siegfried,  who  takes  a  malicious  pleasure  in  constantly 
breaking  the  blades  which  the  dwarf  gives  him. 

Ah  !  why  can  he  not  succeed  in  uniting  the  fragments 
of  Nothung,  Siegmund's  weapon  !  In  the  youth's  hands 
it  would  easily  triumph  over  Fafner,  who,  transformed 
into  a  dragon,  is  still  the  guardian  of  the  magic  Ring. 
Siegfried  could  gain  possession  of  the  talisman,  which,  in 
his  turn,  Mime  could  wrest  from  him  ;  but  all  efforts 
are  vain  !  The  fragments  of  the  mysterious  sword  will 
not  unite  in  his  hands  !  He  spitefully  continues  to 
strike  the  anvil,  whilst  talking  to   himself. 

Siegfried  in  forest  dress,  with  a  silver  horn  on  a  chain, 
appears,  joyously  leading  a  bear  with  a  rope,  having  cap- 
tured it  in  the  forest,  and  sets  it  at  the  terrified  Mime. 
He  rallies  him  on  his  cowardice,  and  then,  freeing  the 
bear,  which  disappears  into  the  forest,  he  claims  the 
sword  which  he  had  ordered  the  Nibelung  to  make  him, 
and  breaks  it   on  the  anvil   at  the  first  attempt   as  he  has 

12 


i78  THE    MUSIC    DRAMAS 

done  with  all  the  others.  His  conversation  already  testi- 
fies how  little  affection  and  esteem  he  has  for  the  dwarf; 
and  Mime  vainly  recapitulates  all  the  troubles  and  all  the 
care  he  has  taken  of  him  from  his  birth.  Siegfried  goes 
and  lies  down  on  the  couch,  and  contemptuously  kicks 
to  the  ground  the  food  which  the  dwarf  brings  him  ; 
he  mocks  him  and  asks  himself  how  it  is  that,  feeling 
such  an  aversion  for  this  miserable  gnome,  he  still 
returns  here  every  day  after  his  ramblings  in  the  for- 
est. —  His  foster-father  replies  that,  despite  his  whims, 
this  proves  that  Mime  is  dear  to  his  heart.  —  But 
Siegfried  laughs  at  this  idea ;  he  puts  fresh  questions  to 
the  dwarf  and  refuses  to  believe  that  this  squinting 
and  hideous  abortion  can  be  the  author  of  his  existence, 
as  the  knave  is  trying  to  persuade  him.  He  urges  him 
to  tell  him  who  were  his  real  parents :  Mime  tries  to 
avoid  answering,  and  finally,  being  compelled  by  the 
irritated  youth,  confesses  that  he  is  the  son  of  an  unhappy 
fugitive,  who,  overwhelmed  with  grief  and  agonv,  one 
day  sought  refuge  in  the  forest  and  died  in  giving  birth 
to  him.  Siegfried  shows  great  emotion  at  this  story. 
The  crafty  dwarf  repeatedly  returns  to  the  enumeration 
of  all  the  benefits  he  has  bestowed  upon  the  child  whom 
the  poor  dying  Sieglinde  had  confided  to  his  care,  but  the 
impetuous  youth  unceremoniously  interrupts  him  and 
forces  him  to  tell  him  the  rest  of  his  story.  Little  by 
little  he  learns  that,  before  expiring,  his  mother  gave  him 
his  name  of  Siegfried,  and  that  his  father  had  been  slain 
in  a  combat,  leaving  him  as  his  onlv  heritage  the  frag- 
ments of  a  sword  which  had  broken  in  the  last  fight,  and 
which  are  still  preserved  by  the  Nibelung.  At  this  reve- 
lation Siegfried  flies  into  a  passion  ;  he  orders  the  dwarf 
to  weld  together  the  fragments  of  his  father's  sword,  with 
which  he  will  leave  the  forest,  free  and  joyous,  to  travel 


OF    RICHARD    WAGNER  179 

over  the  world  ;  he  must  have  this  sword  immediately  : 
he  demands  that  Mime  shall  forge  it  without  any  delay, 
and  springs  out  of  the  cave  after  having  threatened  the 
dwarf,  who,  on  being  left  alone,  is  in  a  state  of  despair: 
he  no  more  knows  how  to  manage  the  rebel  steel  than 
to  keep  him  whose  unconscious  arm,  in  accordance  with 
his  dark  machinations,  is  to  conquer  for  him  the  treasure 
that  he  covets  and  that  is  so  well  guarded  by  the  terrible 
dragon. 

Sckne  II.  —  While  he  gives  way  to  these  discourag- 
ing reflections,  there  comes  into  the  cavern  a  stranger, 
heavily  muffled  in  a  dark  cloak  and  having  on  his  head  a 
large  hat  which  conceals  part  of  his  face.  This  stranger, 
who  is  none  other  than  the  god  Wotan,  refuses  to  reveal 
his  identity  to  Mime;  he  styles  himself  the  Wanderer, 
and  asks  to  be  allowed  to  rest  after  the  fatigues  of  the 
journey.  Despite  his  grudging  reception  by  the  dwarf, 
who  sees  in  him  a  spy  whose  presence  frightens  and  dis- 
turbs him,  the  god  enters,  and,  sitting  down  at  the 
hearth,  tells  his  host  that  often  while  wandering  over  the 
face  of  the  earth  he  pays  the  hospitality  he  receives  by 
wise  counsels  which  he  gives  to  those  who  desire  to 
question  him,  and  he  offers  to  forfeit  his  head  if  Mime 
in  questioning  him  does  not  learn  from  his  answers 
something  which  is  important  for  him  to  know.  The 
dwarf,  to  get  rid  of  him,  accepts  the  gage,  and  asks  him 
three  questions,  which  the  Wanderer  promises  to  solve: 
"  Who  are  the  people  living  in  the  bowels  of  the  earth  ?  " 
first  asks  Mime.  —  "They  are  the  Nibelungs,  whom 
their  chief  Alberich  subjugated,  thanks  to  the  power  of 
the  magic  Ring,"  the  stranger  replies.  —  "What  race 
lives  on  the  surface  of  the  earth  ?  "  — "  The  race  of  the 
giants,  whose  princes,  Fasolt  and  Fafner,  acquired  the 
treasures  of  the  Rhine  and  the  cursed  Ring.      Fafner  killed 


i8o  THE   MUSIC    DRAMAS 

his  brother,  and  now,  transformed  into  a  dragon,  guards 
this  treasure."  —  Mime,  who  is  deeply  interested  in  the 
Wanderer,  again  asks  him  :  "  Who  are  the  inhabitants 
of  the  cloudy  heights?"  —  "They  are  the  luminous 
elves  who  dwell  in  Walhalla,  and  their  chief,  Wotan,  has 
conquered  the  universe  by  virtue  of  his  lance,  on  which 
are  graved  the  sacred  runes." 

At  the  conclusion  of  these  words,  the  stranger  strikes 
the  ground  with  his  staff,  and  a  roll  of  thunder  is  heard, 
which  makes  Mime  start  from  his  reverie.  The  dwarf 
being  satisfied  with  the  answers  he  has  received,  now 
wants  to  get  rid  of  the  Wanderer,  in  whom  he  has  at 
length  recognized  the  Father  of  the  Gods ;  but  the  latter 
questions  him  in  his  turn,  holding  his  head  as  a  forfeit  if 
he  does  not  answer  his  questions  :  "  What  race  is  perse- 
cuted by  Wotan  despite  the  love  he  bears  them  ?  "  — 
"  The  Walsungs,"  replies  Mime,  who  rapidly  sketches 
their  history.  —  "  What  sword  is  intended,  according  to 
.  the   dark  designs  of  a   Nibelung,  to  slay  Fafner,  by  the 

agency  of  Siegfried,  and  make  the  dwarf  master  of  the 
Ring?"  — "  Nothung,"  cries  Mime,  carried  away  by 
the  interest  he  takes  in  the  question.  —  Finally,  "  Who 
is  the  skilful  smith  who  will  succeed  in  reuniting  the 
wondrous  fragments  of  the  blade  ?  " 

At  these  words,  Mime  trembles  with  fright;  the 
question  reawakens  all  his  anxieties,  and  the  Wanderer, 
laughing  at  his  emotion,  tells  him  that  only  he  who 
knows  no  fear  will  be  able  to  triumph  over  the  difficulty. 
The  dwarf  has  not  succeeded  in  answering  the  last 
question  ;  his  life,  therefore,  is  forfeit  to  the  stranger, 
who  goes  away  into  the  forest,  bequeathing  the  gnome's 
head  to  him  who  has  never  known  fear. 

Scene  III. — On  being  left  alone,  Mime  sinks  down 
behind   the   anvil ;    that  fear    which  he   ought  never  to 


OF    RICHARD    WAGNER  181 

have  felt,  if  he  wants  to  forge  the  steel  successful , 
takes  complete  possession  of  him;  in  his  delirium  he 
already  thinks  he  sees  the  dragon,  the  terrible  Fafner, 
approaching  ;  he  trembles  in  every  limb,  utters  loud 
cries,  and  rolls  on  the  ground. 

Siegfried,  on  his  return  from  his  expedition  into  the 
forest,  finds  him  in  this  condition.  He  again  asks  for 
the  sword  ;  but  the  dwarf  now  knows  that  he  himself 
cannot  forge  it,  and  then  understands  that  this  youth, 
who  has  never  known  what  fear  is,  is  the  one  to  whom 
the  Wanderer  bequeathed  his  head  on  departing.  To 
escape  this  peril,  it  is  necessary,  cost  what  it  mav,  to 
terrify  this  bold  heart,  and,  with  this  idea,  he  tells  Sieg- 
fried that,  according  to  his  mother's  wish,  he  cannot 
leave  these  solitudes  without  first  having  learnt  fear. 
To  excite  it  he  draws  a  moving  picture  of  the  forest 
when  darkness  is  falling  upon  it,  when  vague  murmurs 
mingle  with  the  savage  cries  of  the  wild  beasts.  Sieg- 
fried is  well  acquainted  with  this  mysterious  hour,  but 
it  has  never  yet  disturbed  his  heart  in  any  way.  Mime 
then  speaks  to  him  of  the  terrible  dragon,  Fafner,  who 
strangles  and  devours  all  who  attempt  to  approach  him, 
whose  retreat,  Neidhohle,  the  cavern  of  envy,  is  at  the 
extremity  of  the  forest. 

The  dwarf's  tale  only  serves  to  awaken  the  curiosity 
of  the  ardent  youth  ;  he  wants  to  go  to  seek  fear  before 
the  monster's  retreat ;  he  wants  to  set  out,  but  not  with- 
out being  armed  with  Nothung,  and  he  calls  upon  Mime, 
for  the  last  time,  to  forge  it  for  him.  At  the  fresh  pro- 
crastinations of  the  wily  gnome,  who  knows  he  cannot 
perform  the  task,  Siegfried  snatches  the  pieces  of  the 
sword  from  his  hands,  and  sets  eagerly  to  work  to  reduce 
the  metal  to  filings  and  afterwards  to  forge  it.  In 
honour  of  the  cherished  weapon,  he  sings  a  joyous  song, 


i8i  THE    MUSIC    DRAMAS 

which  alternates  with  the  malevolent  imprecations  of  the 
elf,  who  feels  all  his  anxieties  returning,  now  that  his 
dark  schemes  are  melting  away. 

The  dwarf,  however,  will  make  a  last  effort  for 
success ;  he  will  let  the  bold  youth  conquer  the  dragon 
with  his  wondrous  sword,  and  then,  when  he  is  ex- 
hausted with  the  combat,  Mime  will  present  him  with  an 
enchanted  draught,  a  few  drops  of  which  will  plunge 
him  into  a  deep  sleep  and  leave  him  defenceless.  Then 
the  Nibelung  will  only  have  to  pursue  his  way  to  the 
cave  where  he  will  easily  be  able  to  seize  the  treasure 
which  he  has  so  long  and  ardently  coveted.  Already  he 
sees  himself  in  possession  of  the  Ring  of  the  omnipotent 
charm,  and  tastes  in  advance  long  draughts  of  the  in- 
toxicating pleasures  of  sovereign  power.  He  takes  from 
the  cupboard  the  ingredients  necessary  for  his  infernal 
concoction  and  begins  to  mix  it  on  the  other  end  of  the 
hearth  of  the  forge. 

Meanwhile,  Siegfried,  still  gaily  singing,  has  finished 
the  forging  of  his  marvellous  weapon  ;  he  tempers  it, 
and  then  tries  it  on  the  anvil,  which  this  time  he  easily 
cleaves  with  a  powerful  blow.  The  dwarf,  whose  medi- 
tations are  thus  rudely  interrupted,  starts  and  falls  to  the 
ground  overwhelmed  with  terror,  while  the  youth  joy- 
ously and  triumphantly  brandishes  his  sword. 

Act  II. 

Scene  I.  —  The  action  takes  place  in  the  forest,  be- 
fore the  cavern  in  which  the  drowsy  Fafner  is  guarding 
his  treasure.  On  the  right,  in  the  foreground,  are  thick 
reeds  ;  in  the  centre,  an  enormous  lime-tree  with  mighty 
limbs,  and  roots  which  form  a  kind  of  natural  seat.  In 
the  middle  distance,  which  is  partly  elevated,  toward  the 
kit,  half  hidden  by  a   mass  of  rocks,  is  the  opening  to 


OF    RICHARD    WAGNER  183 

the  dragon's  den.  A  wall  of  rugged  rocks  forms  the 
background.      A  dark  night  reigns  over  the  whole  scene. 

Alherich  is  anxiously  keeping  watch  outside-  the 
Neidhohlc,  the  retreat  of  the  monster  whose  treasure  In- 
still hopes  to  gain,  when,  accompanied  by  a  storm-wind, 
and  suddenly  illuminated  by  a  moonbeam  which  pierces 
the  clouds,  the  Wanderer  arrives. 

The  elf,  furious  at  the  presence  of  his  enemy,  hreaks 
out  into  threatenings  and  insults  against  the  god,  whom 
he  suspects  of  desiring  to  help  Siegfried  in  his  struggle 
with  the  monster.  But  Wotan,  who  has  come  to  see 
and  not  to  act,  being  firmly  resolved  not  in  any  way  to 
protect  the  hero  whose  race  he  has  been  compelled  to 
abandon,  answers  Alberich  that  the  only  person  he  has 
to  fear  is  Mime.  Mime  alone  desires  the  Ring,  of 
whose  magic  power  the  youth  is  entirely  ignorant.  As 
for  Wotan  himself,  he  disdains  it.  To  support  his  words, 
he  proposes  to  the  Nibelung  the  idea  of  warning  the 
monster  of  the  danger  which  threatens  him  and  offering 
to  save  his  life  in  exchange  for  the  Talisman.  The 
dragon,  Fafner,  awakened  from  his  heavy  sleep,  declines 
their  proposition  :  he  is  not  willing  to  give  up  his  useless 
power.  The  god,  laughing  at  the  dwarf's  discomfiture, 
departs  in  the  ragings  of  the  storm,  advising  him  to  be- 
have in  a  conciliators   way  towards   his  brother  Mime. 

The  Nibelung,  following  him  with  a  malevolent 
glance,  renews  his  imprecations,  swearing  to  pursue  his 
conquest  and  one  day  to  crush  the  detested  race  of  the 
gods.  He  hides  himself  in  a  cleft  in  the  rocks;  day 
begins  to  break. 

Scene  II. —  Mime  and  Siegfried  arrive,  Siegfried 
armed  with  the  sword.  Siegfried  sits  down  under  the 
big  lime-tree,  his  companion  faces  him,  and  attempts  to 
terrify  him   by  pointing   out   the   retreat   which   yawns    a 


1 84  THE    MUSIC    DRAMAS 

few  paces  from  them,  and  depicting  the  horrible  monster, 
the  denizen  of  thai  cavern,  who  seizes  all  who  have  the 
imprudence  to  approach  him  in  his  terrible  jaws  and 
covers  them  with  a  venomous  froth  which  consumes  the 
flesh  of  his  victims,  or  crushes  and  suffocates  them  in 
the  coils  of  his  long  tail. 

Siegfried,  who  is  unmoved  at  his  words,  promises  him- 
self to  plunge  Nothung  into  the  monster's  heart ;  and 
when  Mime  insists  and  persists  that  he  will  feel  fear  on 
finding  himself  face  to  face  with  the  dragon,  he  becomes 
impatient  and  forces  him  to  go  away,  threatening  him  in 
his  turn  with  the  frightful  beast. 

Being  now  alone  and  awaiting  the  combat,  Siegfried 
joyfully  thinks  that  he  is  now  going  to  leave  forever  this 
odious  dwarf  who  is  so  hateful  to  him  ;  he  also  thinks 
with  deep  tenderness  of  that  mother  whom  he  would 
have  loved  so  dearly  and  whose  caresses  he  has  never 
known.  He  takes  a  delight  in  thinking  of  her  as  beau- 
tiful and  gentle,  with  eyes  clear  and  brilliant  as  those  of 
a  gazelle.  He  sighs  and  becomes  meditative,  then  his 
dreaming  is  interrupted  by  the  murmurs  of  the  forest, 
which  come  from  every  direction  and  fill  his  soul  with  a 
mvsterious  poetrv ;  and  bv  the  joyous  song  of  a  bird  perched 
above  his  head,  whose  language  he  regrets  not  being  able 
to  understand  ;  perhaps  it  would  speak  to  him  of  that 
dear  mother  ?  He  wishes  to  imitate  its  warbling  and 
cuts  a  reed  with  his  sword  to  make  a  pipe;  but  he  can 
only  draw  harsh  sounds  from  this  primitive  instrument, 
and,  casting  it  away  in  disgust,  he  takes  up  his  silver 
horn  instead,  and  on  it  he  sounds  a  jovous  call.  Hitherto, 
when  he  has  called  thus  on  the  forest  for  a  dear  com- 
panion, he  has  only  found  the  bear  and  the  wolf;  what 
will  come  now  ? 

So  saying,  Siegfried  turns  and  finds  himself  in  the  pres- 


OF   RICHARD    WAGNER  185 

ence  of  Fafner,  who,  in  the  form  of  a  hideous  reptile, 
has  advanced  to  the  middle  of  the  stage,  and  utters  a 
loud  roar.  The  youth  laughs  at  the  sight  of  him,  and 
is  not  in  the  least  afraid  of  the  monster's  menacing 
words  ;  he  rallies  him  on  his  delicate  little  teeth,  and, 
drawing  his  sword,  he  resolutely  places  himself  before 
him.  The  dragon  vainly  attempts  to  spurt  his  deadly 
venom  upon  him  and  enfold  him  with  his  tail  so  as  to 
crush  him  :  the  young  hero  foils  his  attempts,  and,  profit- 
ing from  an  instant  in  which  his  enemy  turns  round,  he 
plunges  Nothung  into  his  heart.  The  dying  Fafner 
admires  the  courage  of  the  youth  who  has  dared  to  brave 
him;  he  tells  him  what,  personality  he  concealed  under 
this  hideous  form,  and  his  last  words  are  of  useful  coun- 
sel to  Siegfried,  who  must  guard  against  the  dark  designs 
of  him  who  brought  him  here;  then  he  rolls  over  on  the 
ground,  lifeless.  At  the  moment  when  Siegfried  with- 
draws his  sword  from  the  monster's  breast,  his  hand  is 
covered  with  the  burning  blood  which  gushes  from  the 
wound ;  he  involuntarily  lifts  his  fingers  to  his  lips  to 
get  rid  of  the  blood,  and  then  for  a  few  moments  he 
stands  in  thought.  Suddenly  his  attention  is  attracted  by 
the  bird's  song,  the  meaning  of  which  he  now  seems  to 
comprehend.  Has  such  a  prodigy  been  wrought  by  his 
having  tasted  of  the  blood  ?  The  bird,-  in  a  lan«-uao;e  he 
can  understand,  advises  him  to  go  into  the  cavern  and 
take  possession  of  the  Tarnhelm  and  the  Ring,  the 
power  of  which  it  reveals  to  him.  The  hero  thanks 
his  gracious  protector  and  disappears  in  the  depths  of  the 
cave. 

Scene  III.  —  Whilst  he  is  exploring  it,  Mime  issues 
from  his  hiding-place,  and,  not  seeing  Siegfried,  is  about 
to  enter  the  cavern,  when  Alberich,  also  leaving  his  re- 
treat, bars   his  passage.      A  heated   discussion  then  arises 


186  THE    MUSIC    DRAMAS 

between  the  two  dwarfs  concerning  the  coveted  treasure. 
Mime  ends  by  proposing  to  share  it  with  his  brother, 
but  the  latter  rejects  the  offer  with  disdain  :  he  offers 
him  the  Ring  and  will  keep  the  Tarnhelm  for  himself, 
cunningly  calculating  that  it  will  be  easy  later  to  wrest 
the  Ring  from  his  brother  by  the  aid  of  the  enchanted 
casque.  Alberich  contemptuously  refuses ;  and  the 
quarrel  grows  very  bitter,  each  one  swearing  that  the 
treasure  shall  belong  to  him  entirely.  They  disappear 
among  the  trees  and  rocks,  giving  place  to  Siegfried, 
whom  they  are  enraged  to  see  come  out  of  the  cavern 
earnestly  gazing  at  the  magic  helmet  and  the  Ring. 
He  halts  under  the  tree,  asking  himself  of  what  use  will 
be  these  treasures,  which  he  would  not  have  gathered 
save  for  the  advice  of  the  bird,  whose  whole  meaning  he 
did  not  exactly  grasp  :  they  will  only  serve  to  remind 
him  of  his  victory  in  which  he  had  no  knowledge  of 
fear. 

Through  the  silence  the  murmurs  of  the  forest  are 
again  heard,  increasing  and  flooding  with  a  glorious  sym- 
phony the  soul  of  the  youth,  who,  now  in  complete  com- 
munion with  the  mysterious  voices  of  Nature,  plainly 
perceives  the  sublime  and  hidden  meaning  of  it  all.  The 
bird's  song  is  again  heard  instructing  him  regarding 
Mime's  treachery  :  Siegfried  will  only  have  to  listen  at- 
tentively to  the  gnome's  words  to  understand  their  real 
signification.  In  fact,  the  crafty  dwarf  again  advances, 
meditating  the  treachery  which  will  assure  him  the  vic- 
tory he  has  so  long  coveted  ;  his  language  betrays  him 
despite  himself,  and  his  words  exactly  mirror  the  black 
feelings  in  his  heart,  although  he  tries  to  make  them 
affectionate  and  reassuring :  he  has  always  hated  the 
child  who  was  confided  to  his  care,  but  he  wanted  to 
make   him   his   instrument   for  gaining  the   treasure;   he 


OF    RICHARD   WAGNER  187 

now  offers  him  a  poisoned  draught,  under  the  pretext 
of  refreshing  him,  and  when  his  victim  is  extended  on 
the  ground  with  his  limbs  stiff  in  death,  he  will  at  last 
seize  the  talisman,  the  object  of  his  ardent  desire.  Sieg- 
fried, indignant  at  the  odious  schemes  of  the  scoundrel, 
lays  him  dead  at  his  feet  with  a  pass  of  his  sword  ;  then  he 
raises  the  body  and  casts  it  disdainfully  into  the  cavern, 
before  which  he  rolls  the  body  of  the  dragon  ;  they  shall 
thus  unite  in  guarding  the  riches  heaped  up  in  the  cave. 

Wearied  by  all  his  exploits,  the  hero  lies  down  at  the 
foot  of  the  tree  ;  the  -melodies  of  the  forest  are  again 
heard  and  he  asks  his  pretty  companion,  the  bird,  to  sing 
again.  -Cannot  the  friend  who  has  already  given  him 
such  valuable  counsel  continue  to  guide  him,  him,  so 
lonely  in  the  world  and  so  hungry  for  the  affections  to 
which  his  heart  has  so  long  been  a  stranger  ?  The 
wondrous  bird  then  tells  him  that  on  a  solitary  rock,  sur- 
rounded by  flames  which  jealously  guard  her,  sleeps  the 
loveliest  of  women  ;  she  there  awaits  the  lover  who  will 
brave  the  fire  to  gain  her;  Briinnhilde  is  her  name;  she 
will  only  belong  to  a  hero  whose  soul  has  never  been 
accessible  to   fear. 

Siegfried,  whose  ,  heart  is  unconscious  of  all  fear, 
recognizes  himself  as  the  chosen  one  who  is  to  triumph. 
Delighted,  in  a  state  of  exaltation,  and  intoxicated  with 
desire,  he  springs  to  the  conquest  of  her  who  is  to  be 
his  ;  the  bird,  to  show  the  way,  hovers  above  him,  and 
the  hero  follows  the  way  indicated  with  joyous  cries. 

Act   III. 

Scene  I. — The  scenery  shows  a  narrow  defile  in  a 
savage,  bare,  and  rocky  country.  A  crypt-like  cave,  the 
dark  mouth  of  which  is  visible,  is  cut  into  the  mountain, 


188  THE    MUSIC    DRAMAS 

which  rises  to  a  point  in  the  middle  distance.  On  the 
left  is  a  path  among  the  wilderness  of  rocks;  the  land- 
scape is  shrouded   in  semi-obscurity. 

The  Wanderer  has  halted  at  the  entrance  of  the  crypt, 
in  which  reposes  in  her  eternal  sleep  Erda,  the  ancient 
spirit  of  the  earth.  He  evokes  her,  and,  by  the  power 
of  his  spell,  forces  her  to  awake.  He  wants  to  ques- 
tion her,  for  she  is  the  wisdom  of  the  world  ;  no  mys- 
tery is  hidden  from  her,  and  the  god  is  anxious  to  share 
her  knowledge. 

The  prophetess  slowly  emerges  from  her  mysterious 
retreat,  enveloped  in  a  weird  light ;  her  hair  and  her 
gleaming  robes  seem  covered  with  hoar-frost.  She  has 
with  difficulty  been  aroused  by  the  influence  of  the  spell 
from  her  profound  slumber,  but  she  knows  nothing  :  all 
her  knowledge  abandons  her  when  she  awakes  ;  she  can- 
not answer  Wotan,  and  advises  him  to  apply  to  the 
Norns,  who  spin  and  weave  all  the  knowledge  of  their 
eternal  mother  into  the  thread  of  the  destinies.  But 
what  the  god  seeks  is  not  to  know  the  future:  he  would 
modify  it.  Why,  then,  does  he  not  question  the  child 
of  his  desire,  the  far-seeing  Briinnhilde  ?  asks  the  Vala.1 
Then  Wotan  informs  her  of  the  punishment  which  he 
has  had  to  inflict  on  the  rebel  virgin.  Can  he  still  con- 
sult her  now  that  he  has  deprived  her  of  her  divinity  ? 
The  goddess  sinks  into  profound  meditation ;  her 
thoughts  trouble  her  since  she  has  awoke ;  she  is  not 
willing  to  counsel  him  whose  actions  she  blames,  who, 
after  having  ordered  the  Walkvrie  to  act  in  a  certain^ 
way,  punishes  her  for  having  done  so;  who  alternately 
shackles  justice  and  puts  it  in  force  and  who  perjures 
himself  in  order  to  keep  his  oaths  ;   besides,  she  has  no 

1  Vala  is  the  name  which  the  Scandinavians  gave  to  their 
prophetesses. 


I 


OF    RICHARD   WAGNER  189 

power  to  change  the  immutable  law  of  what  is  to  be. 
She  asks  to  be  freed  from  the  spell  and  to  return  to  her 
eternal  sleep.  Wotan,  not  being  able  to  get  anything 
from  her,  will  allow  her  to  descend  into  her  dark  retreat. 
Let  destiny  be  accomplished  :  he  will  no  longer  struggle 
against  ruin  ;  what  he  formerly  decided  he  will  now  per- 
form with  joy;  and  the  world,  which  in  his  anger  he 
had  devoted  to  the  hatred  of  the  Nibelung,  he  will  now 
leave  to  the  son  of  the  Walsungs  ;  the  hero,  who,  free 
from  all  fear,  has  succeeded  in  conquering  the  magic 
Ring,  is  going  to  awake  Brunnhilde,  and  the  fallen 
daughter  of  the  gods  shall  accomplish  knowingly  the  act 
of  liberation  which  will  set  the  world  free  ;  it  is  she  who 
shall  return  to  the  Rhine  the  cursed  gold  which  has 
caused  such  great  misfortunes  ;  it  is  she  also  who, 
enveloping  Walhalla  in  a  tremendous  conflagration,  shall 
bring  about  the  end  of  the  gods.  Wotan  then  breaks 
the  spell  which  holds  the  prophetess  ;  she  disappears  into 
the  vault,  which  is  again  plunged  in  darkness  ;  the  tem- 
pest dies  away,  and  the  Wanderer  silently  awaits  Sieg- 
fried's  arrival. 

Dawn  begins  to  break  over  the  scene  ;  the  guardian 
bird  comes  riving  in,  then,  suddenly  frightened  at  the 
sight  of  the  two  ravens  which  alwavs  accompanv  the 
Ma>ter  of  the  World,  it  disappears  in  full  flight. 

Siegfried  joyously  advances,  following  the  way  which 
the   bird    has   indicated. 

1.  II.  —  A  dialogue  commences  between  Siegfried 
and  W  otan,  who  asks  him  questions,  and  to  whom  he 
tells  the  storv  of  his  exploit  with  the  dragon,  of  the 
wondrous  sword  in  his  hand,  and  the  sweet  conquest 
which   he  aspires  to   make. 

These  words  momentarily  revive  in  the  god's  heart 
the   agony  of  the   coming    events   which   he    faced   just 


iqo  THE    MUSIC    DRAMAS 

now  with  a  firm  will;  for  the  last  time  he  is  tempted  to 
intervene,  and  endeavours  to  oppose  the  progress  of  the 
young  hero.  Siegfried  wants  at  any  cost  to  follow  the 
road  which  the  bird  pointed  out  before  it  fled  from 
the  presence  of  Wotan's  ravens;  he  becomes  angry 
with  this  importunate  stranger  who  wants  to  bar  his  wav, 
and  declares  that  if  he  opposes  him  he  will  deprive  him 
of  his  remaining  eye;  but  the  Wanderer,  despising  the 
bold  youth's  rage  and  saying  that  he  is  the  guardian  of 
the  rock  where  Briinnhilde  sleeps,  threatens  with  its 
flames  the  audacipus  mortal  who  would  pass  beyond,  and 
he  angrily  bars  the  way  with  his  lance.  Siegfried,  whose 
impatience  is  at  white  heat,  draws  his  sword  and  strikes 
Wotan's  spear,  breaking  it  into  fragments.  There  is  a 
clap  of  thunder ;  the  whole  scene  is  fiMed  with  a  sea  of 
flame  ;  and  the  god,  finding  himself  vanquished,  gives 
place  to  his  young  and  impetuous  antagonist,  and  dis- 
appears  in   the  general   commotion. 

The  conquering  Siegfried,  now  joyfully  sounds  his 
horn  and  springs  through  the  flames  which  are  extending 
on  the  mountain  ;  the  sound  of  his  horn,  growing  more 
and  more  distant,  proves  that  he  is  scaling  the  rocks  ; 
then  the  flames  abate,  the  clouds  of  smoke  disappear, 
and  reveal  under  an  azure  sky  the  rock  on  which  Briinn- 
hilde is  sleeping. 

The  scenery  is  the  same  as  in  the  third  act  of  Die 
JValki'ire. 

Scene  III.  —  Siegfried,  who  has  ceased  sounding  his 
horn,  looks  around  him  in  amazement.  He  perceives 
the  noble  steed  sleeping  in  the  shadow  of  the  fir,  and  then 
the  shining  steel  armour  which  glitters  in  the  sun ;  he 
approaches  and  sees  an  armed  warrior  asleep  with  the 
head  enclosed  in  a  helmet.  He  gentlv  detaches  the 
helmet  to  make  the  sleeper  more  comfortable.      Magni- 


OF    RICHARD    \\  VGNER  [91 

ficcnt  tresses  escape  from  it.  Siegfried  stands  still  in 
astonishment  and  admiration.  He  now  wants  to  take 
off  the  Stirling  cuirass  and  with  the  edge  of  his  sword  he 
carefully  cuts  the  thongs  which  hold  the  armour  to- 
gether :  he  is  amazed  and  agitated  at  the  sight  of  the 
eful  form  of  a  woman  enveloped  in  a  flowing  white 
garment.  Suddenly  his  heart  is  greatly  troubled  and 
seized  with  a  mortal  agony,  and  in  his  emotion  he  calls 
on  the  memory  of  his  mother.  Is  this  fear  which  at 
length  he  feels2  Was  it  reserved  for  this  adorable  being 
to  inspire  him  with  terror?  To  awaken  the  maiden  he 
presses  a  long  kiss  upon  her  lips  ;  Briinnhilde  then  opens 
her  eyes,  and  they  gaze  upon  one  another  with  delight. 

The  Walkyrie  slowly  raises  herself  and  addresses  a 
solemn  hymn  to  the  sun's  light,  from  whose  beams  she 
has  so  long  been  banished.  Who  has  awakened  her 
from  her  interminable  sleep  ?  Siegfried  with  emotion 
tells  her  his  name,  blessing  the  mother  who  bore  him 
and  the  earth  which  nourished  him,  to  permit  him  to  see 
thi'  dawn  of  this  happy  day. 

Briinnhilde  joins  her  song  of  joy  and  gratitude  to  that 
of  Siegfried,  Siegfried  the  well-beloved,  who,  even  before 
his  birth,  was  the  object  of  her  love  and  care. 

These  strange  words  mislead  the  young  hero  :  is  not  this 
his  mother  whom  he  thought  lost  forever,  and  who  is  now 
fount!  ?  —  No,  answers  the  virgin,  smiling,  his  mother  has 
not  been  restored  to  him,  but  he  has  near  him  her  who 
has  always  loved  and  fought  for  him,  for,  although  un- 
consciously, it  was  her  love  that  led  her  formerlj  to 
transgress  Wotan's  commands,  and  that  drew  upon  her 
the  long  expiation  on  the  rock  and  exile  from  Walhalla. 
At  these  thoughts,  she  becomes  sad  ;  she  resists  the  hero's 
ardent  caresses  and  wishes  to  get  back  her  divine  virgin- 
ity and   her   immortal    nature;    she    regretfully   contem- 


THE    MUSIC   DRAMAS 

plates  the  brilliant   steel  of  her  cuirass  and  the  shining 

armour  which  formerly  shielded  her  chaste  body  from  the 

-  of"  the  profane;   she  calls  upon  her  old  wisdom  and 

'ike  vision,  and  is  terrified  to  rind  that  she  is  inspired 
with  them  no  longer;  her  knowledge  is  departed  and 
darkness  obscures  her  thoughts  :  the  daughter  of  the  gods 
has  become  a  simple  woman. 

But  at  the  same  time  earthly  love  wells  up  in  her 
heart  and  fills  her  whole  being  •,  in  vain  she  still  tries  to 
Struggle  with  herself  and  repulse  the  ardour  of  Siegfried, 

beseeches  her  to  be  his  ;  l<>\e  is  too  strong.  Briinn- 
hilde  is  intoxicated  with  it.  She  will  abandon  the  cause 
of  the  puis.      I. rt  them  all  perish,  that   old   and   decrepit 

;  let  Walhalla  be  destroyed;  let  the  Burg  crumble 
into  dust  ;   let  the  eternals  come  to  an  end  !    .    .    . 

ns,  unravel  the  rope  of  the  destinies  of  the  gods! 
I  •  the  ilusk  of  the  gods  begin  :  the  virgin  will  only  live 
now  for  the  love  of  Siegfried,  her  treasure,  her  star,  her 
all.   .   .   . 

In  uncontrollable  emotion  she  throws  herself  into  the 
arms  of  her  lover,  who  receives  her  with  ecstasy. 

DIE   GOTTERDAMMERUNG 

Prologue.  —  The  stage,  as  in  the  third  act  of  Die 
nts   Brunnhilde's    rock,  but   the  whole 
.<•    is  enveloped   in  blackest   night.      In  the  distance 
only  is  there  a  faint  reflection  of  flames. 

Morns,  draped    in    long   flowing    robes,  are 

the  golden  iokI  of  Destiny,  which  they  pass  to 

:  .      The  first  and  oldest  is  seated  on  the 

he  tii  ;   the  second  is  King  at  the   entrance  of 

the  right  ;    and    the   third,  the    youngest    of 

the   'hi>  1  at  the  foot   of  the  rock   which   com- 


OF    RICHARD    WAGNER  193 

mands  the  valley.  The  first  Norn  points  out  to  her 
sisters  the  light  which  Loge  ceaselessly  maintains  around 
Briinnhilde's  rock,  and  she  tells  them  to  sing  and  to 
weave.  She  ties  the  golden  cord  to  one  of  the  branches 
of  the  fir,  and  calls  to  mind  that  formerly  it  was  a  joy  for 
her  to  accomplish  her  task  in  the  shelter  of  the  mighty 
branches  of  the  world-ash,  at  the  foot  of  which  was  a 
fresh  spring  whence  wisdom  was  gained.  One  day  Wo- 
tan  came  to  the  limpid  water  to  drink  there,  and  made 
the  sacred  payment  of  the  sacrifice  of  one  of  his  eyes  ; 
then  he  tore  off  one  of  the  strongest  limbs  of  the  tree  to 
make  a  battle-lance  for  himself.  But  from  that  moment 
the  ash  began  to  wither,  its  foliage  became  yellow  and 
fell ;  in  the  course  of  many  centuries  the  trunk  perished, 
and,  at  the  same  time,  the  spring  dried  up.  What  hap- 
pened then  ?  —  And  the  Norn,  throwing  the  cord  to  her 
second  sister,  invites  her  to  speak  in  her  turn.  —  Wotan, 
replies  the  Sibyl,  graved  on  his  lance  the  runes  of  the 
treaties  which  constituted  his  power;  he  saw,  fateful 
omen  !  his  weapon  shattered  when  he  opposed  a  young 
hero  ;  then  he  gathered  together  the  warriors  of  Wal- 
halla  and  made  them  destroy  the  world-ash.  What  hap- 
pened afterwards  ?  the  Norn  asks  her  youngest  sister, 
throwing  the  cord  to  her.  With  it  the  heroes  formed  a 
colossal  pyre  around  the  abode  of  the  eternals,  and  Wo- 
tan is  sitting  in  silence  in  the  midst  of  the  august  assem- 
bly of  the  gods.  If  the  wood,  on  taking  fire,  consumes 
the  magnificent  Burg,  that  will  be  the  end  of  the  mas- 
ters of  the  world.  Wotan  enslaved  the  crafty  Loge  and 
stationed  him  in  bright  flames  around  Briinnhilde's  rock; 
then  he  plunged  the  splinters  of  his  broken  weapon  into 
the  heart  of  the  flaming  god.  What  happened  then  ?  — 
The  cord,  which  the  Norns  are  weaving,  begins  to  part, 
the  sharp  edge  of  the  rock  is  cutting  it ;   it  is  the   anath- 

13 


1 94  THE   MUSIC   DRAMAS 

ema  of  Alberich,  the  spoiler  of  the  Rhine-gold,  which  is 
bearing  its  fatal  fruit;  at  last  the  cable  breaks  in  the 
middle  and  with  it  departs  the  prophetic  power  of  the 
three  sisters,  who  rise  in  terror  ;  they  precipitately  gather 
up  the  ends,  and  tying  themselves  together,  they  sink 
into  the  depths  of  the  earth  to  seek  Erda,  their  eternal 
mother. 

Day  has  been  slowly  breaking;  it  now  shines  in  all 
its  brilliance,  and  Siegfried  is  seen  approaching,  armed  as 
a  warrior,  with  Briinnhilde  accompanying  him,  holding 
her   noble   horse,   Granc,   by   the   bridle. 

The  lovers,  who  have  already  tasted  many  days  of 
radiant  happiness,  exchange  oaths  of  fidelity.  Briinn- 
hilde  has  instructed  her  husband  in  the  sacred  runes 
which  the  gods  have  taught  her;  she  has  given  him  all 
her  knowledge,  asking  nothing  in  return  but  his  con- 
stancy and  love;  she  is  encouraging  him  to  new  ex- 
ploits. Siegfried,  who  is  about  to  depart,  after  having 
given  her  renewed  assurances  of  his  love,  presents  her, 
as  a  gage  of  his  fidelity,  with  the  Ring,  taken  from 
Fafher,  which  is  only  valuable  as  a  visible  sign  of  the 
virtues  which  he  had  to  display  in  order  to  conquer  it. 

Briinnhilde  is  delighted,  and  gives  him  in  exchange 
Granc,  the  noble  companion,  which  of  old  bore  her  so 
often  on  lur  warlike  exploits.  In  the  midst  of  the  com- 
bat, may  the  superb  charger  recall  Briinnhilde  to  her 
husband's  memory. 

They  separate  after  a  last  embrace  ;  Siegfried  goes 
down  the  mountain,  leading  his  steed  ;  Briinnhilde  long 
and  lovingly  gazes  after  him,  and  in  the  distance  is 
heard  the  joyous   echo  of  the  hero's  horn. 


OF    RICHARD    WAGNER  195 

Act  I. 

Scene  I. — The  scenery  shows  the  palace  of  the 
Gibichungs  on  the  banks  of  the  Rhine.  The  great  hall, 
with  large  openings  at  the  back,  is  on  the  level  of  the 
river-bank  ;  the  whole  width  of  the  river  is  visible.  On 
the  right,  half-way  up  the  stage  is  a  table  with  chairs 
around  it.  To  the  left  and  right  are  entrances  into 
private  apartments. 

Gunther  and  his  sister  Gutrune,  of  the  family  of  the 
Gibichungs,  are  talking  with  Hagen,  the  son  of  their 
mother,  Grimhilde,  and  are  extolling  the  wisdom  of  this 
brother,~wTiohasaTways  given  them  good  counsel. 

Hagen  —  who  has  inherited  and  carries  on  the  dark 
schemes  of  his  father  Alberich  (who  still  cherishes  the 
idea  of  reo-aiiiing  the  Ring;  which  Wotan  wrested  from 
him)  —  informed  of  Siegfried's  valiant  exploits  and  his 
love  for  the  Walkyrie,  but  carefully  concealing  this 
knowledge,  counsels  his  brother  and  sister,  who  are 
ignorant  of  these  facts,  to  strengthen  their  dynasty  by 
powerful  alliances  :  for  Gunther  he  desires  Brunnhilde, 
the  virgin  who  is  sleeping  on  an  inaccessible  rock,  pro- 
tected by  a  sea  of  flames  ;  it  is  not  reserved  for  Gunther 
to  overcome  this  terrible  obstacle  :  the  only  one  who  can 
accomplish  the  heroic  act,  is  Siegfried,  the  last  scion  of 
the  Walsungs,  who  conquered  Fafner  and  took  posses- 
sion of  the  treasure  of  the  Nibelungs. 

He  it  is  whom  Hagen  has  selected  for  the  daughter  of 
the  Gibichungs.  He  will  readily  yield  to  Gunther  the 
fruits  of  his  victory  if  his  heart  is  enslaved  by  the  charms 
of  Gutrune,  and  in  this  she  can  aid  by  making  the  hero 
drink  a  certain  enchanted  potion,  which  will  render  his 
mind  oblivious  of  his  past  oaths  and  make  him  the  slave 
of  her  who  shall  administer  the  philtre. 


,96  THE    MUSIC    DRAMAS 

The  brother  and  sister  enthusiastically  adopt  Hagen's 
plan,  and,  tor  the  fulfilment  of  their  wishes,  impatiently 
await  him  whose  wanderings  may  at  any  moment  lead 
him  into  their  vicinity. 

^  i  N|.  II.  —  The  sound  of  the  horn  is  heard  in  the 
direction  of  the  Rhine  at  that  very  moment,  announcing 
Siegfried's  arrival.  Hagen  perceives  the  young  warrior 
skilfully  propelling  a  boat  containing  himself  and  Grane. 
Gunther  goes  down  to  the  bank  to  receive  him,  and 
Gutrune,  after  having  contemplated  the  hero  from  afar, 
retires  to  her  own  apartments  in  evident  agitation. 

fried  lands  with  his  horse  and  asks  the  two  men 
which  is  Gunther,  whose  fame  has  reached  him,  and  to 
whom  he  wishes  to  offer  the  choice  of  combat  or  his 
friendship.  Gunther  tells  his  name  and  answers  his 
guest  with  oaths  of  alliance  and  fidclitv.  Hagen,  who 
Ikis  taken  charge  of  Grane  and  led  him  away  by  the 
bridle,  returns  and  questions  him  about  the  riches  of 
the  Nibelungs,  which  he  knows  he  possesses;  but  the 
hero,  despising  the^e  useless  treasures,  has  left  them  in 
the  dragon's  den  ;  he  has  brought  away  nothing  but  this 
helmet  suspended  to  his  belt,  the  magic  power  of  which 
Hagen  Lells  him  without  making  much  impression  on 
him.  He  possesses  one  other  object  which  belonged  to 
the  conquered  treasure,  —  a  Ring,  which  he  has  given  to 
a  noble  woman,  as  a  gage  of  his  fealty.  Hagen  then 
calls  Gutrune,  who  enters,  bringing  a  cup  which  she 
offers  Siegfried   in  sign   of  welcome. 

latter  bows  to  her  and  at   the  moment  of  empty- 
tin-  cup  is  absorbed  in  tender  and  touching  memories 
Brunnhilde,  vowing,   from  the  bottom   of  his  heart, 
their  true  and    burning  love. 

II     drinks,  and  returns  the  horn  to  the  confused  and 
tated   Gutrune;  but,  under  the  charm  of  the  philtre, 


OF    RICHARD    WAGNER  197 

passion  suddenly  kindles  in  his  eyes  as  he  looks  at  the 
maiden  ;  he  tells  her  of  the  feeling  which  has  just  taken 
complete  possession  of  him,  and  immediately  asks  Gun- 
ther  to  give  him  his  sister.  Gutrune,  remorseful  at  thus 
taking  the  hero's  affection  by  force,  makes  a  sign  that 
she  is  unworthy  of  him,  and  leaves  the  hall  with  totter- 
ing steps.  Siegfried  watches  her  departure  with  a  fasci- 
nated gaze,  and  then  asks  his  friend  about  himself.  Has 
he  already  selected  a  wife  ? 

Gunther  replies  by  telling  him  of  the  difficulty  he 
would  have  in  winning  her  whom  he  loves,  Briinnhilde, 
who  is  imprisoned  with  flames  on  a  solitary  rock.  Sieg- 
fried, at  the  sound  of  this  name  so  dearly  loved,  is  now 
only  struck  with  a  vague  reminiscence,  which  is  imme- 
diately effaced  ;  the  philtre  continues  to  do  its  work  ;  he 
undertakes  this  conquest  for  Gunther,  on  the  sole  condi- 
tion that  he  shall  receive  Gutrune  as  a  reward. 

With  the  help  of  the  Tarnhelm  he  will  take  the  form 
of  Gunther  and  will  bring  back  the  promised  bride.  They 
bind  themselves  by  a  solemn  oath  never  to  betray  their 
alliance,  and  cement  the  pact  by  drinking  in  turn  out  of 
the  same  horn,  after  having  first  mingled  a  few  drops 
of  blood  in  the  draught.  Hagen,  who  has  kept  apart 
and  refused  to  take  any  part  in  this  fraternal  pledge,  giv- 
ing his  bastard  origin  as  a  pretext,  breaks  the  horn  with 
a  stroke  of  his  sword,  while  Gutrune,  disturbed  and 
agitated,  comes  to  aid  the  departure  of  the  warriors  •,  he 
meditates  with  bitter  irony,  on  the  fact  that  these  two 
gallants,  led  astray,  one  by  his  perfidious  counsels,  the 
other  by  his  odious  sorcery,  are  both  at  work  to  build 
up  the  fortune  of  the  humble  son  of  the  Nibelung. 

A  superb  curtain  is  drawn  across  the  front  of  the 
scene  and  hides  it  ;  when  it  rises,  the  Walkyrie's  rock 
is  seen,  as   in  the  prologue. 


,98  THE   MUSIC   DRAMAS 

-,,.:  HI.  —  Briinnhilde,  silent  and  pensive,  is  sitting 
at  the  entrance  of  the  grotto,  looking  at  the  Ring  which 
Siegfried  gave  her,  and  covering  it  with  passionate  kisses. 
She  hears  in  the  distance  a  sound  which  was  formerly 
familiar,  —  the  gallop  of  an  aerial  horse  ;  she  listens,  and, 
in  delight,  springs  to  meet  Waltraute,  her  sister,  who  is 
coming  to  seek  her  in  her  retreat,  and  whose  troubled 
expression  she  does  not  notice;  is  her  loved  companion 
at  last  bringing  her  the  pardon  from  the  too  severe  god  ? 
Wotan  must  have  softened  towards  the  guilty  one,  since 
he  allowed  the  devouring  fire  to  protect  her  in  her  sleep 
and  permitted  happiness  to  grow  out  of  her  very  chastise- 
ment; she  now  belongs  to  a  hero  whose  love  inflames  her 
with  pride  and  who  has  made  her  the  happiest  of  wives. 

Waltraute,  who  does  not  share  her  sister's  jov,  has 
come  to  her  full  of  agony,  despite  Wotan's  prohibition, 
to  entreat  her  to  save  Walhalla  from  the  misfortune 
which  threatens  it.  Since  having  exiled  the  child  of  his 
heart,  the  Lord  of  Battles,  in  distress  and  discourage- 
ment, has  not  ceased  to  go  about  the  world  as  a  solitary 
Wanderer:  one  day  he  returned  from  his  idle  roam- 
ings,  holding  his  shattered  lance  in  his  hand  ;  silent  and 
sombre,  with  a  gesture  he  ordered  his  heroes  to  cut 
down  the  world-ash,  and  with  it  to  make  a  vast  pyre 
ind  the  abode  of  the  eternals  ;  then  he  convoked  the 
Council  of  the  Gods  ;  and  since  then,  sullen  and 
motionless,  he  sits  enthroned  among  them  and  the 
heroes,  sorrowfully  contemplating  his  baffled  weapon; 
vainly  his  daughters,  the  warrior-maidens,  try  to  com- 
fort  him  ;  he  remains  deaf  to  their  prayers,  awaiting  his 
us,  which  he  has  sent  away,  and  which,  alas ! 
00   not   return  to  bring  him  any   reassuring;  news. 

only,  touched    by  the  caresses  of  his  daughter, 
W  altraute,  his  eyes  dimmed  at  the  recollection  of  Briinn- 


OF    RICHARD    WAGNER  199 

hilde,  and  he  uttered  these  words :  "  If  she  were  to 
restore  the  cursed  Ring  to  the  Daughters  of  the  Rhine, 
the  gods  and  the  world  would  be  saved."  Then  Wal- 
traute  furtively  left  the  house  of  mourning,  to  come  to 
beg  her  sister  to  perform  this  act  of  redemption. 

At  these  words,  Briinnhilde  rebels.  What  !  sacrifice 
Siegfried's  Ring,  the  sacred  pledge  of  their  love,  more 
precious  to  her  than  the  whole  race  of  the  gods  and  the 
glory  of  the  eternals  ?  She  will  never  consent  to  that, 
though  the  splendours  of  Walhalla  crumble  away  this 
moment ;  and  she  lets  her  sister  depart  in  despair,  bear- 
ing her  immutable  decision. 

Waltraute,  in  utter  despair,  hastens  to  her  father's 
palace,  accompanied  by  a  storm-cloud  flashing  with 
lightning ;  night  has  fallen,  and  the  flame  encircling  the 
rock  shines  with  an  unusual  brilliance. 

The  sound  of  Siegfried's  horn  is  heard  in  the  dis- 
tance. Briinnhilde,  in  delight,  springs  to  meet  him,  but 
recoils  in  terror  at  the  appearance  of  an  unknown  war- 
rior; it  is  her  husband,  who,  still  under  the  influence  of 
the  fatal  philtre  which  blinds  his  soul  and  by  virtue  of 
the  power  of  the  helm,  presents  himself  to  her  under  the 
form  of  Gunther,  in  whose  name  he  wants  to  capture 
her.  The  unfortunate  woman,  overcome  with  horror, 
struggles  in  vain,  calling  upon  Wotan  in  her  distress, 
believing  that  she  is  again  sufFcring  from  his  anger. 
She  vainly  invokes  the  power  of  the  Ring  ;  her  strength 
fails  her.  Siegfried  throws  her  down,  and,  snatching 
away  the  Ring,  he  places  it  on  his  own  finger,  declaring 
her  Gunther's  bride,  and  forces  her  to  enter  the  grotto, 
into  which  he  follows  her;  but,  faithful  to  the  word 
which  he  gave  to  his  ally,  he  will  preserve  her  untouched 
for  the  son  of  the  Gibichung.  To  this  he  calls  his 
sword,  Nothung,  to  witness. 


20  THE   MUSIC   DRAMAS 

Act  II. 

Scene  I.  —  A  long  and  beautiful  stretch  of  the 
Rhine  is  visible,  forming,  on  the  left,  a  sharp  turn,  just 
before  the  palace  of  the  Gibichungs,  which  is  seen  in  pro- 
rile  in  the  extreme  right  foreground.  From  the  escarped 
and  rock)  banks  of  the  river,  in  the  right  centre,  rises  a 
road,  beside  which  are  a  row  of  sacrificial  stones,  the 
first  two  dedicated  to  Fricka  and  Donner,  and  the  third, 
larger  than  the  others,  consecrated  to  Wotan. 

It  is  dark  night.  Hagen,  armed  and  sitting  motion- 
less at  the  door  of  the  palace  which  he  is  guarding,  seems 
to  be  asleep,  although  his  eyes  are  open.  His  father, 
Alberich,  sitting  in  front  of  him,  is  prompting  his 
dreams,  and,  speaking  to  him  in  a  low  voice,  excites  him 
to  the  struggle  in  which  he  is  engaged  to  reconquer  the 
Ring  from  Wotan,  the  cursed  :  already  the  god  has  met 
his  master  among  his  own  blood ;  a  Walsung  has  shat- 
tered his  spear,  the  instrument  of  his  power,  and  the 
god,  disarmed  and  brought  to  naught,  sees  with  anguish 
the  approaching  end  of  himself,  and  Walhalla.  If 
Hagen  is  willing  to  help  the  elf  who  was  the  author  of 
his  being,  he  can  gain  the  sovereignty  of  the  gods  for  his 
own  advantage.  The  Ring,  which  must  be  gained  at 
all  costs,  is  in  Siegfried's  possession  •,  but  the  hero,  not 
knowing  its  power,  or  despising  it,  by  that  very  fact 
ipes  the  imprecation  attached  to  the  possession  of  the 
talisman  ;  he  must  be  tricked,  then,  and  it  must  be  done 
quickly,  lest,  counselled  by  the  noble  woman  with  whom 
the  magic  Ring  is  deposited,  he  may  have  time  to  restore 
to  the  Rhine-Daughters  the  treasure  which  they  so  in- 
sistently demand,  and  which,  in  that  case,  would  be 
irrevocably  lost  to  the  Nibelungs. 

SCENE    II.  —  Hagen,    still    dreaming,    swears    to    his 


OF    RICHARD    WAGNER  201 

father  that  he  will  succeed  in  gaining  possession  of  the 
Ring.  Alberich  disappears,  entreating  his  son  to  keep 
his  promise.  A  thick  cloud  covers  Hagen  ;  day  begins 
to  break  in  the  direction  of  the  Rhine,  and  the  sun 
rises,  being  reflected  in  the  river,  and  shining  on  the 
arrival  of  Siegfried,  who,  transported  by  the  power  of 
his  magic  helm,  arrives  from  the  rock  where  he  has 
captured  Briinnhilde  for  Gunther,  to  announce  the  good 
news  to  the  daughter  of  the  Gibichungs. 

Gutrune  is  delighted,  and  makes  her  lover  relate  his 
new  exploit,  joyfully  learning  that  Gunther,  having  by  a 
cunning  subterfuge  received  his  bride  from  his  hands,  is 
on  the  way  with  her  to  the  palace  of  his  fathers. 

Scene  III.  —  Preparations  must  be  hastened  for  the 
reception  of  the  new  couple  ;  Hagen,  from  a  high  point 
of  observation,  now  calls  together  his  brother's  vassals 
with  the  sound  of  a  horn  ;  they  run  to  arms,  asking  what 
danger  threatens  their  lord  and  master ;  but  Hagen 
reassures  them  :  they  are  only  called  together  to  wel- 
come the  bride  he  has  gained  by  Siegfried's  aid,  and  to 
prepare  the  sacrifices  to  the  gods  who  have  been  pro- 
pitious to  them.  Let  them  immolate  a  strong  bull  on 
Wotan's  altar ;  a  boar  for  Froh ;  a  goat  for  Donner  ; 
and  let  them  consecrate  a  gentle  ewe  to  Fricka,  so  that 
she  may  grant  the  bridal  pair  a  happy  marriage. 

The  vassals,  carried  away  by  the  gay  words  of  Hagen, 
who  is  usually  sombre  and  savage,  rejoice,  and  vow  to 
protect  their  future  mistress. 

Scene  IV. — The  bark  bringing  Gunther  and  Briinn- 
hilde has  landed.  The  warrior  steps  out  of  it  with  his 
sad  bride,  who  allows  herself  to  be  led  with  pale  face 
and  downcast  eyes.  He  presents  her  to  his  vassals,  who 
joyously  welcome  her,  then  to  Gutrune  and  her  future 
husband. 


202  THE   MUSIC   DRAMAS 

Brunnhilde,  at  the  sight  of  Siegfried,  is  dumb  with 
astonishment  and  stands  still,  looking  fixedly  at  him;  he 
calmly  meets  the  unfortunate  woman's  glance  in  entire 
unconsciousness  of  all  that  is  passing  in  her  mind  ;  she 
is  on  the  point  of  fainting,  and  Siegfried  calmly  supports 
her ;  she  sees  the  Ring  on  the  perjured  man's  finger ; 
then  she  violently  starts  away  from  him  and  asks  how 
tin-  Rinii,  which  Gunther  took  away  from  her  and  which 
he  said  was  the  pledge  of  their  union,  is  in  the  possession 
of  another.  The  son  of  the  Gibichungs  is  troubled,  and 
does  not  know  what  to  reply.  Siegfried,  lost  in  reverie 
at  the  sight  of  the  Ring,  only  remembers  that  he  for- 
merly won  it  in  his  fight  with  the  dragon  and  freely  says 
so.  Hagen  joins  in  the  discussion,  pretends  that  he 
suspects  the  Walsung  of  treachery,  and  goads  Briinn- 
hilde  to  revenge;  the  latter,  wild  with  grief  and  revolt, 
proclaims  Siegfried  a  rogue  and  a  villain ;  she  accuses 
the  gods  of  all  the  evils  which  are  crushing  her,  and 
repulses  Gunther  when  he  tries  to  calm  her,  renouncing 
him  as  her  husband  and  pointing  to  the  son  of  Walse  as 
him  to  whom  she  is  given  body  and  soul. 

The  excitement  is  at  its  height;  Siegfried  is  anxious 
to  exculpate  himself  of  such  treachery;  and  all  summon 
him  to  declare  under  oath  that  he  has  not  broken  his 
plighted  word  and  that  in  Brunnhilde  he  has  respected 
Gunther* s  bride.  He  solemnly  affirms  it  on  the  weapon 
which  Hagen  presents  to  him  :  may  he  perish  by  this 
very  weapon  if  he  has  forfeited  his  honour. 

S<  ink  V.  —  Brunnhilde  strides  forward  with  rage  and 
indignation,  and,  by  the  sharp  and  pointed  steel,  calls 
down  vengeance  on  the  traitor  and  perjurer,  and  as 
fried  departs,  careless  of  her  threats  and  thinking  of 
nothing  but  his  new  love,  whom  he  draws  with  him  into 
the  palace,  the  unfortunate  creature,  a  prey  to  the  most 


OF    RICHARD    WAGNER  203 

terrible  grief,  agonizingly  asks  herself  of  what  cruel  sor- 
cery she  has  been  the  victim,  —  who  has  brought  upon 
her  such  misfortune,  —  and  how  can  she  sever  her  hate- 
ful bonds,  now  that  she  has  lost  her  divine  knowledge. 
Hagen  then  approaches  the  poor  abandoned  woman,  and 
offers  her  the  aid  of  his  arm  to  avenge  her;  but  at  this 
proposition  she  gives  a  bitter  laugh  ;  has  not  she  herself 
taken  care  to  render  the  hero  invulnerable  ?  and,  more- 
over, would  not  his  bravery  paralyze  whosoever  would 
measure  himself  against  him  ?  Hagen  recognizes  his 
inferiority  in  such  a  struggle,  but  may  there  not  be  some 
secret  means  of  vanquishing  the  guilty  one  ? 

Briinnhilde  then  tells  him  that  only  one  point  is  vul- 
nerable ;  knowing  well  that  he  would  never  turn  his 
back  upon  the  enemy,  she  did  not  include  that  in  her 
enchantments :  if  Hagen  can  strike  him  between  the 
shoulders,  he  will  be  able  to  give  him  a  mortal  wound 
there.  The  wretch  promises  to  profit  from  this  pre- 
cious advice,  and  imparts  his  plan  to  Gunther,  who  has 
been  standing  apart,  absorbed  in  his  thoughts  and  over- 
whelmed by  the  accusation  of  cowardice  which  his 
wife  has  brought  against  him.  Gunther  shudders  at  the 
thought  of  betraying  him  whom  he  has  taken  for  his 
brother-in-arms ;  but  Hagen  tries  to  still  his  scruples : 
he  reminds  him  in  an  undertone  what  power  will  result 
to  him  from  this  act,  since  it  will  make  him  master  of 
the  Ring.  Gunther  still  hesitates,  thinking  of  Gutrune's 
grief.  That  name  rouses  all  Briinnhilde's  jealous  hatred  : 
that  woman,  who  must  have  robbed  her  of  her  husband 
by  a  charm,  must  be  chastised  in  her  love;  and  Briinn- 
hilde adds  her  entreaties  to  those  of  Hagen.  Siegfried, 
then,  shall  die,  Gunther  acquiesces ;  the  hunt  which 
will  take  place  to-morrow  will  furnish  a  pretext  for  his 
death  :   a  boar  shall  be  said  to  have  attacked  him. 


204  THE    MUSIC    DRAMAS 

While  they  are  weaving  this  dark  plot,  Siegfried  and 
Gutrune,  accompanied  by  their  nuptial-train,  appear  with 
their  heads  adorned  with  Mowers  and  leaves.  They  invite 
their  brother  and  sister  to  imitate  them,  and  while  Gun- 
ther,  taking  Briinnhilde's  hand,  follows  the  joyous  party, 
Hagen,  remaining  behind,  invokes  the  assistance  of  his 
father  Alberich,  the  malevolent  elf,  and  swears  to  himself 
that  he  will  soon  possess  the  much-coveted  Ring. 

Act  III. 

SCENE  I. — The  stage  represents  a  lovely  landscape 
on  the  banks  of  the  Rhine;  the  azure  waters,  pent 
between  rocky  banks,  show  the  Undines  sporting  in  their 
transparent  waves.  In  the  foreground  there  is  a  kind  of 
strand;  on  the  right,  a  path  rises  among  the  rocks  and 
leads  to  the  summit  of  the  bank. 

W  oglinde,  Wcllgundc,  and  Flosshilde,  the  three  Rhine- 
Daughters,  whilst  sporting  in  the  waves,  are  lamenting 
the  loss  of  their  gold,  whose  pure  brilliance  formerly 
illumined  the  river-bed,  which  is  now  plunged  in  darkness 
:ind  sadness.  If  the  possessor  of  the  treasure  would  only 
consent  to  restore  it  to  them! 

Just  then  the  distant  sound  of  the  horn  tells  them  that 
the  hero  is  coming  their  way.  Thev  are  diving  down  to 
take  counsel  together,  when  Siegfried,  fully  armed,  appears 
on  the  bank,  having  lost  his  way  while  following  the 
game. 

The  Undines  reappear  and  accost  him,  offering  to  help 
him  recover,  the  bear,  which  has  escaped  him,  if,  in 
ange,  he  will  give  them  the  golden  Ring  which  is  on 
his  finger. 

II<    refuses   the  Nixies'  proposal.     What!  give   up  a 

treasure  which  lie  gained  at  the   cost   of  a   terrible  com- 

•■•  i'li    the   dragon,   Fafner?     Never!     They   jeer  at 


OF    RICHARD    WAGNER  205 

him,  mocking  his  avarice  and  his  dread,  —  he  so  hand- 
some and  so  strong,  —  of  being  beaten  by  his  wife  if 
she  should  notice  the  absence  of  the  Ring,  and  they 
again  disappear  in  the  waves.  Siegfried,  disturbed  by 
their  raillery,  almost  decides  to  offer  them  the  treasure 
by  which  he  sets  such  little  store ;  he  calls  them  back  ; 
but  the  three  sisters,  who  have  concerted  together,  are 
now  grave  and  earnest,  and  counsel  him  to  keep  the 
Ring  till  he  understands  the  malediction  which  is  asso- 
ciated  with  it ;  then  he  will  joyfully  yield  it  to  them. 
They  know  many  fatal  things  concerning  Siegfried's 
life  —  his  cursed  Ring,  made  out  of  the  Rhine-gold,  by 
virtue  of  the  anathema  of  him  who  forged  it  devotes  to 
misfortune  whosoever  shall  become  its  possessor.  ,  He 
shall  perish,  even  as  Fafner  perished,  unless  he  returns 
it  to  the  depths  of  the  river ;  its  waves  alone  will  have 
power  to  annul  the  malediction,  that  malediction  which 
the  Norns  have  woven  into  the  cord  of  destiny.  Sieg- 
fried will  not  allow  himself  to  be  moved  by  what  he  con- 
siders vain  threats  ;  he  does  not  give  any  credence  to  the 
story  of  the  nymphs,  and  he  will  brave  the  alarming 
prophecies  of  the  Norns,  whose  cord,  if  the  occasion 
arises,  Nothung  will  be  able  to  sever.  They  say  this 
Ring  assures  him  the  empire  of  the  world  :  well,  he  will 
willingly  give  it  to  the  graceful  Nixies,  if  they,  in  ex- 
change, will  give  him  love  and  all  its  sweet  ecstasies, — 
for  life  without  love,  he  values  it  no  more  than  this 
(saying  these  words,  he  takes  up  a  clod  of  earth  and 
casts  it  far  from  him) ;  but  threats  will  never  induce 
him  to  yield,  for  fear  is  unknown  to  him. 

The  Undines,  finding  him  deaf  to  their  exhortations, 
give  up  the  attempt  to  convince  a  madman  who  had  not 
the  sense  to  retain  and  appreciate  the  most  precious  bless- 
ing that  ever  fell  to  his  lot,  the  love  of  the  Walkyrie,  and  is 


206  THE   MUSIC    DRAMAS 

even  ignorant  that  he  has  trifled  away  his  happiness, 
whilst  he  is  set  upon  keeping  the  talisman  which  dooms 
him  to  death.  But,  happily  for  them,  this  very  day  his 
heritage  will  pass  into  the  hands  of  a  noble  woman,  who, 
unlike  him,  will  listen  to  their  prayers  and  do  what  is 
right.  They  will  hasten  to  meet  her.  Siegfried  follows 
them  with  smiling  eyes,  admiring  their  graceful  move- 
ments. 

S<  ink  II.  —  Hunting  horns  are  heard  in  the  distance, 
gradually  coming  nearer;  the  young  hunter  joyously 
answers  on  his  silver  horn.  Gunther  and  Hagen  descend 
the  bank  with  their  suite.  The  menials  prepare  the  meal, 
while  the  huntsmen  stretch  themselves  on  the  earth  and 
begin  to  talk  and  drink.  Siegfried,  confessing  that  his 
chase  has  come  to  nothing,  carelesslv  relates  his  meeting 
with  the  sisters,  who  have  predicted  his  death  for  that  very 
day.  Gunther  is  uneasy,  and  furtively  looks  at  Hagen, 
who  asks  Siegfried  to  tell  them  of  the  time  when  it  is 
said  he  was  able  to  talk  with  the  birds.  But  the  hero 
has  long  ceased  to  understand  their  warblings,  to  which 
he  now  prefers  a  woman's  sweet  words.  Gunther  joins 
Hagen  in  insisting  on  hearing  about  that  adventure. 
tried  then  tells  of  his  childhood  in  the  forest  with 
Mime,  the  cunning  gnome,  whose  dark  schemes  he 
Named,  his  combat  with  Fafner  by  the  aid  of  Nothung, 
his  valiant  sword,  the  conquest  of  the  treasure,  and  the 
wise  counsel  of  the  wondrous  bird.  When  the  hero  has 
arrived  at  this  point  of  his  story,  Hagen  secretly  mingles 
with  his  drink  a  philtre,  which  reawakens  his  sleeping 
memories;  Siegfried,  now  in  full  possession  of  all  his 
ilties,  to  the  profound  astonishment  of  Gunther,  who 
listens  with  an  ever-increasing  emotion,  relates  his  victo- 
i  ions  que3t  to  deliver  BrQnnhilde,  and  the  delightful 
reward  which   awaited   him   as   the    price    of  his  valour. 


OF    RICHARD    WAGNER  207 

Gunther,  in  amazement,  seems  as  if  he  begins  to  under- 
stand. At  this  moment,  two  ravens,  issuing  from  a 
neighbouring:  prove,  come  and  wheel  above  the  head  of 
Siegfried,  who  turns  to  look  at  them  ;  Hagen  profits  by 
this  moment  to  spring  upon  him  whom  in  his  hatred  he 
has  trapped  in  such  a  cowardly  manner,  and  plunges  his 
spear  between  his  shoulders.  Gunther  springs  up  in 
horror  to  ward  off  the  murderer's  arm,  but  alas !  too 
late.  Siegfried  raises  his  shield  to  crush  the  traitor,  but 
his  strength  fails,  and  he  falls  to  the  earth,  whilst  his 
cowardly  assassin  tranquilly  moves  away  and  gains  the 
top  of  the  bank.  Before  expiring,  Siegfried  is  still  able 
to  send  a  last  farewell  to  the  beloved  one  whom  he  is 
still  unconscious  of  having  betrayed,  and  the  radiant 
memory  of  whom  softens  his  last  sufferings.  Her  be- 
loved image  comes  to  enrapture  his  dying  moments. 

The  vassals  place  the  hero's  body  on  a  litter  of  boughs. 
The  funeral  procession  is  formed.  Gunther  first  fol- 
lows the  corpse,  giving  every  sign  of  the  deepest  grief. 
The  moonbeams  light  up  the  mournful  march,  and  mists 
rise  from  the  face  of  the  Rhine  and  envelop  the  whole 
scene.  When  they  are  finally  dissipated,  the  stage  shows 
again  the  great  hall  in  the  palace  of  the  Gibichungs,  this 
time  in  darkness.  Onlv  the  river  in  the  background  is 
illuminated  by  the  brilliant  moonlight. 

Scene  III.  —  Gutrune  comes  out  of  the  silent  and 
sleeping  palace,  anxiously  awaiting  the  return  of  her  hus- 
band and  her  brother;  she  is  troubled  with  dark  presenti- 
ments. Briinnhilde's  wild  and  sinister  laugh  has  inter- 
rupted her  sleep.  Was  it  she  whom  she  saw  in  the 
distance  going  towards  the  river  ?  She  finds,  indeed, 
that  Briinnhilde  bus  left  her  apartments  and  she  is  on  the 
point  of  re-entering  her  own  room  when  she  hears 
Hagen's   voice,  which  turns  her  cold  with   fear.     The 


2o8  THE    MUSIC    DRAMAS 

huntsmen  have  returned  :  why,  then,  does  she  not  hear 
the  ringing  sound  of  Siegfried's  horn  ?  She  asks  Hagen, 
who  at  first  tells  her  that  her  husband  is  returning  and 
she  must  prepare  to  greet  him,  and  then  brutally  informs 
her  that  the  hero  will  never  again  joyously  wind  his 
horn,  for  he  has  met  his  death  in  a  struggle  with  a  furious 
wild-boar. 

The  funeral  procession  arrives  at  that  moment  and 
the  whole  crowd  of  servants  press  in,  bearing  lights  and 
torches.  The  huntsmen,  with  Gunther  in  their  midst, 
set  the  corpse  down  in  the  centre  of  the  hall.  There  is 
general  consternation.  The  unhappy  Gutrune  falls 
fainting  at  the  sight  of  the  lifeless  body  of  him  she  loved. 
Gunther  tries  to  raise  her;  but,  recovering  herself,  she 
repulses  her  brother  with  horror,  accusing  him  of  having 
a>>assinated  her  husband.  Gunther  exculpates  himself, 
and  then  reveals  Hagen's  crime,  cursing  him  and  calling 
down  misery  and  agony  upon  his  head.  The  traitor 
impudently  comes  forward  and  proclaims  aloud  his  odious 
act ;  he  demands  as  a  right  of  spoil  the  Ring  which  glit- 
ters  on  the  hero's  finger.  Gunther  forbids  him  to  touch 
Gutrune's  heritage.  Hagen  threatens  him;  they  both 
thaw,  and  Gunther,  pierced  by  his  brother's  sword,  falls 
dead  ai  his  feet.  The  assassin  then  wishes  to  seize  the 
Ring,  ami  throws  himself  upon  Siegfried's  body  to  take 
it ;  but  the  hand  of  the  corpse  litts  itself  in  a  threatening 
manner,  clutching  the  Ring  in  its  fingers.  There  is  gen- 
eral horror.  Gutrune  and  her  women  utter  piercing 
shrieks. 

Brunnhilde,  then  appearing  at  the  back  of  the   stage, 

advances  calmly  ami  solemnly,  commanding  the  noise  to 

She,  the  woman    abandoned  and  betrayed  by  all, 

comes   to  avenge  the  hero,  whose  death  will  never  be 

deplored  as  it  deserves. 


OF    RICHARD    WAGNER  209 

Gutrune  breaks  out'in  reproaches,  accusing  her  of  hav- 
ing drawn  all  these  misfortunes  upon  their  house  ;  but 
Briinnhilde,  with  noble  dignity,  imposes  silence  upon  her, 
reminding  her  that  she  (Briinnhilde)  is  the  lawful  wife, 
whom  alone  Siegfried  has  ever  loved  and  to  whom  he 
had  sworn  eternal  fidelity.  Gutrune  then,  in  an  agony 
of  despair,  understands  what  an  odious  part  Hagen  has 
made  her  play  in  counselling  her  to  make  use  of  the 
cursed  philtre,  and,  calling  down  curses  upon  the  villain, 
she  falls  on  Gunther's  body,  utterly  overwhelmed  with 
grief.  Hagen,  with  a  glance  of  defiance,  stands  apart  in 
sombre  reflection. 

Briinnhilde,  after  having  gazed  long  and  sadlvon  Sieg- 
fried's face,  solemnly  orders  the  servants  to  build  on  the 
river  bank  a  pyre  to  receive  the  hero's  corpse  ;  then  she 
sends  for  Grane,  her  faithful  and  noble  steed,  which  she 
wishes  to  share  in  the  sacred  honours  which  are  reserved 
for  valorous  warriors. 

While  the  vassals  are  piling  up  the  wood,  which  the 
women  dress  with  tapestries  and  flowers,  Briinnhilde 
again  sinks  into  contemplation  of  her  beloved,  the  purest 
of  the  pure,  the  loyalest  heart  of  all,  who,  however,  be- 
trayed and  abandoned  her,  the  only  woman  he  loved. 
How  came  that  to  be  ?  O  Wotan,  inexorable  god,  who 
to  repair  his  own  sin  did  not  fear  to  devote  his  daughter 
to  this  extreme  distress  by  thus  sacrificing  him  whom  she 
loved  !  How  grievously  she  had  learnt,  by  the  excess  of 
her  misfortunes,  what  it  was  necessary  for  her  to  know  ! 
Now  she  sees,  she  knows,  she  understands  everything, 
but  at  the  cost  of  what  suffering  ! 

She  sees  sailing  above  her  the  two  black  messengers 
of  the  P'ather  of  Battles  :  let  them  return  to  Walhalla 
and  announce  that  now  everything  is  accomplished  and 
consummated,  and  that  the  divine   race  will  soon   have 

u 


210  THE    MUSIC    DRAMAS 

d    to    exist.       Slumber,    slumber,    O    race    of   the 

gods  ! 

Slu-  makes  a  sign  to  the  vassals  to  place  on  the  pyre 
the  both  iif  Siegfried,  Hist  taking  off  the  Ring,  and  put- 
ting it  on  her  ringer.  This  fatal  Ring,  of  which  she 
again  takes  possession,  she  bequeaths  to  the  Daughters 
of  the  Rhine  ;  let  them  come  and  look  for  it  presently 
among  her  ashes,  when  fire  shall  have  purified  it  from 
the-  malediction  which  has  weighed  so  heavily  upon  all 
who  have  owned  it.  She  approaches  the  pyre  where  the 
body  of  the  hero  is  already  resting,  and,  brandishing  a 
torch,  she  again  tells  the  ravens  to  go  and  tell  Wotan 
what  has  happened  here  ;  then  to  fly  to  the  rock  where 
she  slept,  and  order  Loge,  who  is  still  there,  to  betake 
himself  to  Walhalla  and  to  wrap  the  royal  abode  of  the 
gods  in  flames, — for  the  eternal  twilight  is  beginning  for 
them,  and  the  fire,  which  is  soon  going  to  consume  her- 
self,  will  extend  as  far  as  the  inaccessible  retreat  of  the 
Master  of  the  World. 

She  flings  the  brand  upon  the  pyre,  which  immediately 
ignites.  Then,  turning  for  the  last  time  to  the  assembled 
people,  she  bequeaths  to  them  the  treasure  of  her  divine 
knowledge:  the  race  of  the  gods  is  extinct;  the  universe 
is  without  a  master  ;  but  there  still  remains  to  it  a  boon 
which  is  more  precious  than  all,  and  which  it  must  learn 
to  cherish,  more  than  gold,  more  than  glory  and  great- 
ness: this  is  Love,  which  alone  can  issue  victorious 
from   all   trials  and   give  perfect  happiness. 

Brunnhilde  receives  her  horse,  Grane,  from  two 
youths;  slu-  strips  off  all  his  harness,  unbridles  him,  and 
shows  him  the  pyre  on  which  his  master  reposes.  Then, 
quicld)  mounting  the  noble  animal,  she  springs  with 
him  into  the  flames,  which  leap  up,  crackling  and  filling 
the    whole    stage.     The    people  disperse  in  terror,  and 


w> 


PARSIFAL 


Gurnemanz  (bass).    Old  Knight  of  the  Grail,  having  sen 
the  reign  of  Titurel  and  Amfortas. 

id  Knight  (bass).      \ 

,d  E^.  (coot,.     T"'  """*  ""  ^™  «'  ^ 

I      guardians  and  servants  u(  the  sacred  I 

,it  Esquire  (sopr  )   (      lhe   hD,y   vcssd   conIi>":i'nS   lhc   bIoi> 

\     Saviour. 
.»  Knight  lienor).  / 

Kundry   (sopr.).     A  double   character:   sometime*  servai 

Amfortas  tU.iryt.).     Priest-King  of  the  Grail,  ion  of  the  old 

jd  Esquire  (tenor).  Servant  of  the  Grail. 
4th  Esquire  (tenor).  Servant  or  the  Grail. 
Parsifal  (tenor).    Son  of  Gamuret  and  Heneleidc;  beeomi 

The  Brotherhood  of  the  Kllighta  of  the  Grail  I  CAonu ;  tei 
Youths  (Gfmti :  conl.,  ten.).     Hair-way  up  the  dome. 
Young  Boy  a  (CAerus:  sopr,,  eontr.).     At  the  top  of  the  d 
Voice  of  Titurel  (bass).     Dying  knight,  into  whose  care 


Klingsor  (bass).    Wicked  Knight,  who,  not  being  allowed  to  becom 
Flower-Maidens  (Ckorui:  sopr.,  coot.).      Fantastic  and  sedut 


1  bv  r 


Dells  to  ruin  the  Knights  of  the 


OF    RICHARD    WAGNER  211 

then  the  pyre  sinks  down,  casting  up  a  dense  column 
of  smoke.  Soon  the  clouds  are  dissipated,  and  the 
waters  of  the  Rhine  are  seen  to  be  overflowing  their 
banks  and  rising  to  the  threshold  of  the  palace,  bringing 
the  three  Undines  in  their  waves. 

Hagen,  who  has  'watched  all  the  foregoing  scene 
with  anxiety  and  dread,  now  casts  himself,  with  a  last 
great  cry  of  covetousness,  into  the  midst  of  the  waters 
to  seek  the  Ring ;  but  he  is  seized  and  dragged  down 
into  the  depths  by  Wellgunde  and  Woglinde,  while 
Flosshilde  appears  on  the  crest  of  the  waves,  exultantly 
holding  up  the  Ring,  which  is  regained  at  last  ! 

The  distant  sky  is  in  flames  :  the  conflagration  en- 
folds the  whole  horizon,  and  the  vassals,  silent  with 
awe,  watch  the  sinister  and  impressive  spectacle  of  the 
annihilation  of  the  palace  of  the  gods  as  it  is  engulfed 
in  the   stupendous  horror  of  an   ocean   of  fire. 

With  this  impressive  cataclysm  the  fourth  and  last 
day  of  Der  Ring  des  Nibelnngen  comes  to  an  end. 

PARSIFAL. 

On  Montsalvat,  a  remote  peak  in  the  Pyrenees, 
stands  a  castle,  built  by  Titurel  as  a  sanctuary  inviolable 
and  inaccessible  to  the  profane,  where  the  sacred  cup  out 
of  which  Christ  drank  at  his  last  meal  with  his  disciples 
may  be  preserved.  This  sacred  cup,  the  Grail,  con- 
taining the  blood  which  flowed  from  the  divine  wounds 
of  the  Saviour  on  the  cross,  as  well  as  the  Lance  which 
caused  those  wounds,  has  been  confided  by  celestial 
messengers  to  the  pure  knight  in  days  of  Infidel  warfare 
when  the  enemies  of  the  faith  threatened  to  profane 
these  precious  relics. 

Titurel,  after  having  built  this  magnificent  sanctuary 


212 


THE    MUSIC    DRAMAS 


for  these  treasures,  has  gathered  around  him  for  their 
protection  a  body  of  knights  whose  pure  hearts  have 
rendered  them  worthy  of  this  high  mission.  The  Grail 
rewards  these  noble  servants  for  their  pious  fidelity  by 
imparting  to  them  a  power  and  miraculous  valour  which 
enable  them  to  undertake,  for  the  upholding  of  the  faith, 
labours  from  which  thev  could  not  issue  victorious  with- 
out divine  help-,  and  every  year  a  dove,  descending  from 
the  celestial  regions,  comes  to  renew  the  powers  of  the 
Holv  Grail  and  its  Knights. 

An  inhabitant  of  the  country  near  Montsalvat, 
Klingsor,  wishing,  for  the  remission  of  his  sins,  to  be 
enrolled  in  the  pious  order,  has  vainly  sought  to  root 
out  of  his  heart  the  tendencies  to  sin  ;  and,  not  suc- 
ceeding, he  has  destroyed  his  animal  instincts  by  laying 
violent  hands  on  himself;  his  unworthy  action  having 
closed  the  doors  of  the  sacred  castle  against  him  forever, 
he  has  listened  to  the  Evil  Spirit,  and  received  from  him 
unhallowed  instructions  in  the  art  of  magic.  Being 
then  full  of  hatred  against  those  who  have  rejected  him 
as  a  brother,  he  has  used  bis  fatal  power  in  transforming 
the  arid  land  into  a  garden  of  delights,  where  grow,  half 

5,  half  women,  fantastic  beings  of  irresistible 
beauty,  who  exert  their  seductive  charms  to  bring  about 
the  ruin  of  such  of  the  Knights  of  the  Grail  as  are  weak 

h  to  fall  into  their  snares. 

Man)  had  alread)  been  led  astray  when   Amfortas,  to 

whom   his    father,   the   venerable   Titurel,  bowed    down 

with  years,  had  yielded   the  crown,  wished  to  put  an  end 

t<>  these  tatal  enchantments,  ami  came  himself,  seconded 

divine  aid,  to  this  haunt  of  guilty  pleasure;  but, 

he  was  no   stronger  than  those  who  had  preceded 

imbed,  as   thej    had.      What  a  climax  of 

lhame  and  defeat  !      His  enemy  gained  possession  of  the 


OF   RICHARD    WAGNER  21? 

sacred    Lance,   the   precious    relic   confided   to   his  care,     t 
and,  turning  it  against  its  very  defender,  gave   Amfortas      )      .1 
a  deep   wound    in   his    side,  which    no  remedy  can  ever   r  ^    q/* 
heaT-  ^  »•* 

The  unfortunate   king,   however,   returned   to  Mont-       y^ 
salvat,    bearing   with   him    the   sully  of  his  sin   mingled 
with  eternal  remorse,  which  is  even  more  agonizing  than 
the  incurable  wound  which  bleeds  in  his  side. 

From  this  time,  the  august  brotherhood  of  knights  is 
plunged  into  shame  and  sadness,  each  one  of  them  shar- 
ing in  the  humiliation  and  grief  of  the  fallen  king.  The 
latter,  vainly  seeking  a  remedy  for  his  physical  and 
moral  sufferings,  feels  them  more  intensely  every  time 
he  is  forced  as  priest-king  to  celebrate  the  holy  mys- 
teries, and  he  shrinks  with  terror  from  performing  them 
every  time  they  recur.  It  is  in  vain  that  he  demands 
from  the  sacred  lake,  which  the  forest  shelters,  the  benefi- 
cent alleviation  of  its  fresh  waters ;  in  vain  do  his 
knights  bring  him  precious  balms  from  the  most  distant 
lands. 

One  day,  when  prostrate  before  the  tabernacle,  he 
was  imploring  the  Saviour's  pity,  he  heard  a  celestial 
voice  prophesying  the  healing  of  his  wound  and  the 
redemption  of  his  sins  by  a  being  full  of  purity  and  pity, 
a  Guileless  Fool,  who  should  come  to  restore  the  Grail 
to  its  immaculate  condition,  and,  having  regained  the 
p_rofanated  lance  from  the  criminal  hands  of  Klingsor, 
should  bring  it  to  the  sanctuary,  where  one  touch  of  it 
should  heal  the  wound  which  it  formerly  inflicted  on 
the   prince  who   was  forgetful  of  his   mission. 

This  Guileless  Fool,  the  hero,  full  of  compassion  for 
the  sorrows  of  others,  will  be  Parsifal,  the  predestined 
being  whom  the  designs  of  Providence  will  bring  by 
mysterious  ways  to  Montsalvat,  by  starting  him  in  pur- 


2i4  THE    MUSIC    DRAMAS 

suit  of  a  sacred  swan;  having  been  present  at  the  holy 
sacrifice,  and  having  witnessed  the  physical  and  moral 
distress  of  Amfortas,  he  will  feel  his  heart  illumined  with 
celestial  light,  will  understand  the  high  and  regenerative 
task  reserved  for  him,  and  will  conceive  such  a  holy 
horror  of  sin  as  will  preserve  him  from  the  infernal 
snares  which  will  be  set  for  him  also  by  Klingsor,  aided 
h\  his  faithful  follower  and  slave,  Kundry,  whom  he 
has  made  the  servile  agent  of  his  criminal  wnshes. 

This  strange  figure  of  Kundry,  entirely  a  being  or 
Wagner's  own  creation,  appears  in  turn  as  the  devotedly 
attached  servant  of  the  Grail  when  she  is  left  to  her 
own  nature,  and  as  their  bitter  enemy,  the  instrument 
of  their  undoing,  when  dominated  in  spite  of  herself  by 
the  magic  ascendency  of  Klingsor,  she  transforms  her- 
self into  a  woman  of  "  terrible  beauty  "  and  becomes 
the  most  irresistible  means  of  seduction  in  the  enchanted 
gardens.  The  pious  knights  are  ignorant  of  this  double 
nature  and  regard  her  only  as  a  strange  invalid  and  un- 
tamable being,  whose  frequent  and  long  absences,  which 
are  preceded  by  a  deep  sleep,  always  correspond  with  a 
fresh  misfortune  which  overtakes  them;  but  it  is  she 
who  has  seduced  and  ruined  Amfortas,  and  it  is  on  her 
that  the  sorcerer  relies  to  undermine  the  virtue  of  the 
Guileless  Fool.  The  unfortunate  woman  revolts  against 
these  terrible  missions  ;  and  therefore  she  is  melancholy 
and  in  anguish  every  time  she  feels  weighing  upon  her 
ids  the  heavy  hypnotic  sleep  into  which  Klingsor 
plunges  her  when  he  wants  to  subject  her  to  his  hated 
power.  She  thus  expiates  the  crime  of  a  former  exis- 
tence, when,  as  Herodias,  she  followed  Christ  on  his 
otha  with  devilish  and  cruel  laughter.  This 
LUghter  is  again  one  of  her  characteristics  in  her 
new  incarnation  when  under  the  evil  spell  of  the  enchanter: 


OF    RICHARD    WAGNER  215 

then,  becoming  his  worthy  servant,  she  equals  him  in 
wickedness.  But  when  free  from  the  sorcery,  she  as- 
pires, as  far  as  her  savage  and  ignorant  nature  will  allow, 
to  goodness  and  to  atone  for  the  sins  of  the  enchantress, 
of  which  she  preserves  a  vague,  half-conscious  memory. 
This  is  why  she  so  ardently  seeks  the  balms  which  may 
heal  Amfortas's  wound,  which  she  helped  to  inflict,  de- 
siring no  thanks  as  a  reward  for  her  trouble,  and  it  is 
also  this  aspiration  for  repentance  and  redemption,  which 
finally,  by  the  help  of  the  divine  grace  triumphing  over 
Klingsor's  black  magic  and  sorceries,  will  permit  her 
regeneration  in  the  holy  water  of  baptism,  poured  on 
her  head  by  Parsifal,  who,  by  the  accomplishment  of 
his  sacred  mission,  will  have  become  priest  and  prince  of 
the  Grail  in  place  of  Amfortas. 

These  preliminary  explanations  are  absolutely  neces- 
sary for  the  comprehension  of  the  brief  analysis  which 
follows. 

Act  I. 

First  Tableau.  —  The  first  scene  takes  place  in  a 
glade  in  the  forest  which  surrounds  the  castle  of  Mont- 
salvat.  On  the  left,  a  road  rises  towards  the  castle  on 
the  height.  At  the  back,  on  the  right,  the  road  suddenly 
dips  to  a  lake,  which  is  felt,  rather  than  seen,  in  the 
background. 

Day  is  just  breaking.  Gurnemanz,  one  of  the  oldest 
Knights  of  the  Grail,  and  two  young  squires  are  sleeping 
under  a  tree.  At  the  sound  of  trumpets,  which  are 
heard  in  the  direction  of  the  castle  giving  forth  their 
solemn  notes,  Gurnemanz  awakes  and  invites  the  youths, 
whom  he  awakes  in  turn,  to  join  him  in  the  morning 
prayer.  They  all  three  kneel  down  ;  then,  when  they 
have  concluded  their  devotions,  Gurnemanz  orders  his 
companions  to  occupy  themselves  with  the  bath  in  which 


THE   MUSIC    DRAMAS 

Am  fort  as  is  about  to  seek  some  alleviation  of  his  suffer- 
ing. He  asks  two  knights  who  are  approaching,  coming 
down  from  the  castle,  how  the  prince  is,  and  if  the  new 
remedy  which  has  been  applied  to  his  wound  has  afforded 
him  any  relief.  Upon  their  reply  in  the  negative,  the 
old  knight,  discouraged  but  not  surprised,  sadly  lets  his 
head  sink  in  his  breast.  At  this  moment,  one  of  the 
young  squires  signals  the  approach  of  a  new  character, 
whom  he,  as  well  as  his  companions,  designate  with 
such  names  as  Devil's  Mare  and  Wild  Amazon,  and 
there  appears  a  woman  of  strange  physiognomy,  with 
swarthy  complexion,  piercing  eyes,  and  a  savage  glance, 
wearing  long,  floating,  black  tresses,  and  clothed  in 
Grange  garb  ;  it  is  Kundrv.  She  comes  in  hastily,  look- 
ing exhausted  by  a  long  journev,  and  hands  to  Gurne- 
manz  a  crystal  phial  containing  a  balm  which  she  has 
been  to  seek  in  the  most  remote  regions  of  Arabia,  to 
alleviate  the  pain  of  the  unfortunate  Amfortas ;  then, 
giving  way  to  fatigue,  she  lies  down  on  the  ground  to 
rest  while  the  arrival  of  the  train  of  knights  and  squires 
accompanying  the  king's  litter  calls  away  the  attention 
of  those  present  from  her. 

The  unfortunate  prince,  ceaselessly  tortured  bv  his 
sufferings,  implores  Heaven  for  death  or  for  the  coming 
of  the  Fool,  full  of  compassion,  who  is  to  bring  his 
martvrdom  to  an  end  ;  he,  however,  accepts  from 
Gurnemanz's  hands  the  balm  which  Kundry  has  brought, 
and  •  i  hank  the  strange  creature  for  it  ;  but  the 

latter,  in  agitation  and  distress,  takes  little  notice  of  the 
king's  gratitude.  Amfortas  orders  his  attendants  to  carry 
his  litter  to  the  sacred  lake,  and  the  train  departs,  while 
the  worthv  knight  sadly  gazes  after  it. 

squires    then    attack     Kundry    with     malicious 
,   calling    her  a  sorceress,   and  reproaching  her 


OF    RICHARD   WAGNER  217 

with  supplying  the  king  with  hurtful  drugs;  but  Gurne- 
manz  defends  her  and  reminds  them  of  what  devotion, 
on  the  contrary,  she  gives  proof  every  time  she  has  a 
chance  to  render  any  service  to  the  Knights  of  the  Grail, 
and  in  going,  with  lightning  speed,  to  carry  messages  to 
those  whose  duties  keep  them  in  distant  countries. 

For  many  years  she  has  been  known  at  Montsalvat,  for 
when  Titurel  consecrated  the  castle,  he  found  her  asleep 
in  the  forest.  There  she  is  always  discovered  after  her 
long  unexplained  absences,  which,  however,  fatally  coin- 
cide with  every  fresh  misfortune  which  falls  upon  the  ser- 
vants of  the  Grail.  During  the  last  one  of  these  absences 
occurred  the  unlucky  combat  which  was  so  fatal  to 
Amfortas.  Where  was  she  wandering;  at  that  time,  and 
why  did  not  she,  who  was  usually  so  devoted,  come  to  the 
aid  of  the  unfortunate  prince  ?  Kundry  remains  silent 
at  this  question,  and  Gurnemanz,  again  occupied  with 
his  sorrowful  thoughts,  describes  all  the  details  of  the 
humiliating  defeat  to   his  youthful   companions. 

His  hearers  next  ask  him  to  tell  them  about  the  origin 
of  the  Grail  :  he  narrates  it  at  great  length,  in  the  course 
of  which  Kundry,  still  lying  on  the  ground,  manifests 
violent  agitation,  and  he  ends  by  telling  them  of  the 
consolatory  promise  which  came  from  on  high  and  alone 
sustains  the  courage  of  the  greatly-tried  prince. 

Scarcely  has  he  finished  his  story,  when  cries  are  heard 
in  the  direction  of  the  lake :  they  come  from  some 
knights  who  have  seen  a  wild  swan,  a  visitant  respected 
in  the  district  and  loved  by  the  king,  which  has  just 
been  wounded  by  an  unknown  hand.  The  bird,  beat- 
ing its  wings,  falls  expiring  on  the  ground  while  some 
squires,  having  discovered  the  murderer,  bring  him  to 
Gurnemanz,  who  questions  him  concerning  his  wanton 
cruelty  and  sorrowfully  reproaches  him  with  it. 


\J 


218  THE  MUSIC     DRAMAS 

The  criminal,  Parsifal,  is  a  youth  who  seems  totally 
unconscious  of  the  act  he  has  just  committed.  He  can- 
not tell  his  own  name,  nor  in  what  country  he  was  horn  ; 
he  remembers  only  that  his  mother  was  named  Herze- 
leide  (Broken  Heart),  and  that  he  lived  with  her  in  the 
forests  and  barren  plains.  These  particulars,  which  he 
so  imperfectly  gives,  are  supplemented  by  Kundry, 
who  has  been  attentively  observing  the  young  innocent: 
he  was  born  after  the  death  of  his  father,  Gamuret,  who 
was  slain  in  a  combat  ;  and  his  mother,  hoping  to  shield 
him  from  the  same  fate,  has  brought  him  up  far  from 
human  beings  and  their  broils.  Parsifal  then  remembers 
that  one  dav,  having  seen  brilliantly  armed  men  mounted 
on  noble  animals  pass  by,  he  vainly  sought  to  join  them, 
and  then,  that  in  his  pursuit,  having  lost  his  way,  he 
was  forced  to  defend  himself  against  wild  animals  and 
savage  men  ;  but  in  his  innocence  he  had  no  knowledge 
of  their  evil  intentions  with  regard  to  him.  Kundry 
then  tells  him  that  in  one  of  her  chance  wanderings  she 
met  Herzeleide  succumbing  to  the  grief  which  the 
disappearance  of  her  son  caused  her,  and  that  she  saw 
her  die.  Parsifal,  losing  all  control  of  himself  at  this 
new-,,  springs  upon  Kundry  and  would  strangle  her  but 
t<>r  the  intervention  of  Gurnemanz,  who  releases  the 
unfortunate  woman.  The  half-witted  youth  then  seems 
to  regret  his  violence;  he  trembles  all  over  and  is  about 
to  tall  into  a  tit,  but  Kundry  has  already  hastened  to-  a 
neighbouring  spring,  and,  bringing  fresh  water  in  a  horn, 
she  tends  and  revives  him. 

nemanz  praises  this  charitable  and  forgiving  act; 
but  the  strange  creature  sadly  repulses  his  approbation  ;  she 
only  asks  to  be  allowed  to  rest  from  the  great  weariness 
which  sin-  feels  coming  over  her,  and  while  the  worthy 
knight  is  busy  with  the  youth,  she  drags  herself  towards  a 


OF    RICHARD    WAGNER  219 

neighbouring  thicket  to  seek  sleep  there.  Suddenly  the 
idea  of  this  irresistible,  agonizing  sleep  which  always 
precedes  the  odious  enchantment,  revolts  her ;  she 
struggles  and  tries  to  cast  off  its  influence :  but  the 
mysterious  power  prevails  over  her  resistance,  and  she 
falls  inanimate  behind  the  bushes,  where  she  remains  inert 
and  invisible. 

In  the  meantime,  towards  the  lake,  the  knights  and 
squires  are  seen  accompanying  Amfortas  on  his  return  to 
the  castle  after  his  bath.  Gurnemanz,  supporting  Par- 
sifal's still  tottering  steps,  prepares  to  lead  him  to  the 
sacred  castle,  where  he  will  have  him  present  at  the 
mystic  repast  of  the  servants  of  the  Grail.  Who  knows 
if  this  innocent,  providentially  guided  along  the  inacces- 
sible roads  of  Montsalvat,  may  not  be  that  Guileless 
Fool,  the  elect,  destined  for  the  rehabilitation  of  the 
Grail  ? 

The  knight  and  Parsifal  apparently  walk  on,  but,  in 
reality,  the  scenery  behind  them  moves;  and,  after  a 
long  passage  among  the  rocks,  they  pass  through  a  door 
leading  to  vast  subterranean  galleries,  which  they  seem 
to  traverse,  continually  ascending. 

Second  Tableau.  —  The  sound  of  bells  and  trum- 
pets is  heard  constantly  growing  nearer ;  at  last  they 
find  themselves  in  an  immense  hall  surmounted  by  a 
luminous  dome.  The  sound  of  the  bells  seems  to  come 
from  the  top  of  this  dome.  Parsifal  appears  to  be  fasci- 
nated by  the  grandeur  of  the  sight  which  meets  his  eyes, 
and  Gurnemanz  attentively  watches  him,  to  gather  from 
his  manner  the  first  signs  of  the  desired  revelation. 

To  right  and  left,  at  the  back  of  the  hall,  two  doors 
open,  admitting  two  long  files  of  knights  who  gravely 
and  deliberately  enter  and  range  themselves  around 
tables  on  which  cups  are  set.     They  are  preparing  to 


220 


THE    MUSIC    DRAMAS 


A 


celebrate  the  spiritual  love-feast  as  it  was  instituted  by 
the  Saviour. 

After  them  comes  the  train  of  the  king,  lying  on  his 
litter  and  surrounded  by  ministering  brothers  and  squires. 
Two  pages,  who  precede  him,  carry,  carefully  veiled,  a 
>hrine  which  they  set  down  on  a  raised  altar  near  which 
is  placed  as  a  throne  the  couch  on  which  Amfortas  is 
lying.  Behind  this  couch  and  on  a  lower  level  is  a 
dark  chapel,  whence  issues  the  grave  voice  of  Titurel, 
telling  the  unfortunate  prince  to  celebrate  the  sacred  mys- 
teries without  delay.  Amfortas,  who  knows  what  suf- 
ferings an'  inseparable  from  the  sacred  act  for  him, 
wishes  to  put  it  off;  he  begs  his  fatKertoofficiate  in  his 
place ;  but  the  old  man,  in  whom  there  is  scarcely  a 
spark  of  life  left,  refuses,  and  summons  his  son  to  fulfil 
his  duty  without  delay.  Amfortas,  in  extreme  agony, 
invokes  the  pit \  of  all  present,  supplicates  the  Creator  to 
put  an  end  to  his  physical  pain  and  his  moral  sufferings, 
which  are  a  thousand  times  more  intense;  he  undergoes 
all  the  tortures  that  the  Saviour  endured  on  the  cross; 
like  him,  he  sees  all  his  blood  welling  from  the  wound 
which  nothing  can  stanch,  and  his  heart  is  corroded  with 
shame  and  remorse  on  seeing  himself — he  who  is  so  un- 
worthy—inflexibly appointed  to  accomplish  the  divine 
sacrifice. 

But  he  supplicates  in  vain  :  Titurel's  voice  is  again 
beard,  ordering  the  Grail  to  be  uncovered.  The  pages 
unveil  the  shrine  and  take  out  the  chalice,  placing  it  be- 
fore the  officiating  prince.  Amfortas,  bowing  before  the 
holy  eup,  !•,  lost  in  ardent  prayer;  he  celebrates  the 
I  barist,  the  mystic  Supper  of  Montsalvat;  the  hall  is 
filled  with  a  thick  cloud,  and  a  ray  of  celestial  light,  fall- 
m  the  dome,  casts  a  glowing  and  purple  light 
aiound  the  sacred   chalice.      Amfortas  then,  transfigured 


OF   RICHARD    WAGNER  221 

by  faith,  elevates  the  Grail  before  all  present,  who  arc- 
piously  kneeling.  Slowly  the  shadows  vanish,  the  bril- 
liancy of  the  chalice  pales,  and  when  the  king  has  placed 
it  upon  the  table,  and  the  daylight  has  returned  little  by 
little,  all  the  cups  are  seen  full  of  wine,  and  a  piece  of 
bread  is  at  the  side  of  each.  The  knights  take  their 
places  around  the  table,  while  youthful  voices  are  heard 
extolling  the  praises  of  the  Most  High  in  a  song  of 
thanksgiving. 

Gurnemanz  invites  Parsifal  to  sit  beside  him;  but  the 
latter,  absorbed  in  ecstasy,  does  not  understand  his  in- 
vitation ;  since  his  arrival  he  has  been  standing  motion- 
less with  his  back  to  the  spectators  as  though  stupefied. 

The  knights,  after  having  communicated  in  both  kinds, 
give  each  other  the  fraternal  embrace.  Meanwhile, 
Amfortas,  who  has  somewhat  recovered  from  his  state 
of  ecstasy,  shows  by  his  actions  the  pain  he  is  again 
suffering  from  the  wound  from  which  the  blood  is  gush- 
ing. All  throng  round  him,  his  squires  replace  him  on 
his  litter  and  the  train  is  formed  again,  in  the  same  order 
as  it  arrived,  around  the  king  and  the  precious  shrine. 
Day  is  gradually  fading,  and  the  bells  are  again  heard. 

Parsifal,  who,  although  motionless,  during  the  service 
had  seemed  to  be  himself  experiencing  the  terrible  suf- 
ferings of  Amfortas,  —  like  him,  holding  his  hands  to  his 
side  in  agony, —  is  still  in  that  species  of  dream  which 
separates  him  from  the  rest  of  the  world.  Gurnemanz, 
taking  no  notice  of  what  is  passing  in  the  youth's  mind, 
and  disappointed  in  his  attempt,  takes  him  brusquely  by 
the  arm  and  turns  him  out  of  the  place,  banishing  him 
with  harsh  words  from  the  sacred  dwelling,  where  he 
thinks  him   unworthy  to   remain. 


222  THE   MUSIC   DRAMAS 

Act    II. 

First  Tableau. — The  stage  represents  the  retreat 
of  the  magician  Klingsor,  situated  in  a  roofless  tower. 
Steps  descend  into  the  depths  of  the  tower,  and  numer- 
ous instruments,  used  in  the  cabalistic  art,  magic  mirrors, 
etc.,  are  scattered  about  the  hall,  which  is  plunged  ii* 
almost   total   darkness. 

15\  means  of  his  sorceries,  Klingsor  is  drawing  Parsifal 
in  his  direction,  after  Gurnemanz,  who  is  imprudent  and 
ignorant  of  what  is  passing  in  that  simple  soul,  has  cast 
him  out  of  Montsalvat.  The  more  clear-sighted  magi- 
cian, recognizing  in  the  pure  youth  the  elect  who  is  to 
save  and  regenerate  the  Grail,  is  going  to  try  to  ruin 
him  as  he  did  Amfortas,  and  for  this  purpose  he  calls  to 
his  aid  Kundry,  whose  renewed  servitude  he  has  prepared 
by  casting  her  into  her  heavy  magnetic  sleep. 

He  sets  himself  to  his  incantations  and  burns  herbs, 
whose  thick  smoke  fills  the  stage.  From  these  violet 
<  and  baleful  fumes  emerges  confusedly  at  the  back  of  the 

hall  the  vague  and  apparently  fluidic  form  of  Kundry. 
Awaking  from  her  lethargy,  she  answers  him  who  ha? 
«r\  her  in  his  spells  with  a  cry  of  agony  which  ends  in  2 
long  moaning.  He  begins  to  mock  her  for  her  attach- 
ment to  the  Knights  of  the  Grail,  to  whom  she  returns 
immediately  she-  is  delivered  from  his  magic  power,  and 
sneeringly  reminds  her  of  what  priceless  assistance  she 
nevertheless  rendered  him  when  it  was  necessary  to  de- 

■\  the  purity  and  virtue  of  Amfortas.  The  wretched 
woman,  trying  to  recover  her  speech,  struggles  against 
these  hateful  memories  and  curses  them  with  a  harsh  and 
broken  voice.  Hut  the  pitiless  Klingsor  continues  by 
reminding  her  that  for  to-day  he  has  reserved  for  her  a 
still   more  brilliant   victory,  for   she  has  to  deal  with   a 


OF    RICHARD    WAGNER  223 

being  protected  from  the  weakness  of  the  flesh  by  the 
rampart  of  innocence.  Kundry,  in  the  wildest  agony, 
vainly  refuses  to  obey  :  the  outcast  reminds  her  that  he 
is  her  master,  the  sole  one  who  could  never  be  affected 
by  the  magic  power  of  her  beauty.  Kundry,  then  giving 
vent  to  a  burst  of  strident  laughter,  in  her  turn  mocks  at 
him  for  his  forced  chastity  •,  the  sorcerer,  enraged  by  this 
allusion,  tells  her  that  he  is  not  to  be  insulted  with  im- 
punity :  how  dearly  have  Titurel  and  his  race  had  to  pav 
for  the  contempt  they  showed  him  when  he  wanted  to 
be  enrolled  in  their  pious  body  ! 

But  here  comes  the  young  hero  whom  the  sorcerer, 
mounted  on  the  wall  of  the  tower,  sees  from  afar:  no 
more  resistance,  she  must  prepare  to  conquer  him. 
Kundry  still  struggles,  but  vainly:  the  transforming 
spell  is  beginning  to  operate,  she  is  seized  with  the  sin- 
ister laugh  which  suddenly  changes  to  a  cry  of  pain  ; 
then  she  quickly  disappears  to  go  to  perform  her  cursed 
mission  and  with  her  vanishes  the  violet  light  which  en- 
veloped her.  In  the  meantime,  from  his  post  of  obser- 
vation, Klingsor  sees  the  lost  troop  of  knights  which  he 
has  captured  from  the  Grail  dash  at  Parsifal,  who  quickly 
overcomes  them,  and  then  the  sorcerer  disappears,  as  well 
as  his  tower,  which  sinks  into  the  earth,  leaving  in  its 
place  enchanted  gardens  full  of  luxuriant  vegetation, 
tropical  plants,  and  fantastic  flowers.  At  the  back 
rises  a  castle  in  the  Oriental  style,  approached  by  several 
terraces. 

Second  Tableau.  —  Parsifal  standing  on  the  wall, 
which  alone  remains  of  the  preceding  scene,  looks  around 
him  in  astonishment.  Suddenly,  from  the  castle  and 
groves,  issues  a  disordered  group  of  Flower-Maidens,  the 
young  and  lovely  enchantresses  created  by  Klingsor  for 
the  ruin  of  the  Knights  of  the  Grail,  who  run  about  be- 


224  THE    MUSIC    DRAMAS 

wailing  the  disastrous  result  of  the  combat  between  their 
companions  and  the  young  hero.  At  first  they  call  down 
curses  on  Parsifal ;  but  when  they  realize  that  he  wishes 
them  no  harm,  they  try  the  effect  of  their  charms  upon 
him  and  seek  to  allure  him,  forgetting  for  his  sake  the 
jits  whom  they  have  already  brought  into  subjection 
and  damnation. 

Thev  disappear  in  turn  into  the  clumps  of  foliage 
to  deck  themselves  with  costumes  which  make  them 
look  like  lovely  blooming  flowers,  and,  surrounding  the 
youth,  they  dispute  with  one  another  for  his  possession, 
trying  to  gain  him  with  bold  and  wanton  behaviour ; 
but  all  in  vain,  for  he  resolutely  repulses  and  tries  to 
escape  them.  Then  a  voice  is  heard  from  a  neigh- 
bouring clump  softly  calling :  "Parsifal!"  The  inno- 
cent, suddenly  remembering  that  his  mother  called  him 
thus,  stops  in  emotion,  while  the  Flower-Maidens  re- 
gretfully leave  him  in  obedience  to  the  unknown  voice; 
and  he  slowly  turns  towards  the  clump,  which  has  opened 
and  reveals  lying  upon  a  bed  of  flowers  a  maiden  of  ex- 
quisite beauty,  who  smiles  upon  him  and  invites  him  to 
approach. 

It  is  Kundrv,  who,  transformed  by  the  arts  of  the 
magician  and  now  entirely  subject  to  his  domination,  is 
about  to  carry  out   his  iniquitous  plans.. 

I  I)'-  more  easily  to  gain  the  chaste  youth,  who  is  pro- 
1  bj  his  simplicity,  she  first  arouses  in  him  the  senti- 
ment of  filial  love,  the  sole  affection  which  has  ever 
touched  his  pun-  heart;  she  tells  him  of  Herzeleide's 
tenderness  for  the  feeble  being  to  whom  she  gave  birth 
in  the  solitude  of  the  woods,  her  solicitude  for  him  every 
moment  of  the  day,  her  innumerable  alarms,  afterwards 
the  despair  caused  her  by  the  flight  of  the  ungrateful 
child,  and  finally,  her  solitary  and  cruel  death  when  she 


OF    RICHARD    WAGNER  225 

had  lost  all  hopes  of  ever  seeing  her  beloved  son  again. 
At  these  words,  Parsifal  is  greatly  distressed  and  vehem- 
ently reproaches  himself  for  thus  having  forgotten  the 
gentlest  of  mothers ;  the  enchantress  then  pretends  to 
wish  to  console  him;  she  tenderly  puts  her  arms  round 
him  and  tries  to  persuade  him  that  love  alone  will  cure 
his  remorse.  The  youth,  in  tears,  does  not  think  of 
resisting,  but  when,  becoming  more  pressing,  she  imprints 
a  long  and  burning  kiss  on  his  lips,  he  suddenly  starts  up 
in  unspeakable  terror,  and  lays  his  hand  on  his  heart, 
where  he  seems  to  feel  an  intense  pain.  Suddenly  he  is 
struck  with  the  remembrance  of  Amfortas  ;  he  again  sees 
the  cruel  wound  which  nothing  can  heal,  the  shame,  the 
humiliation,  the  agony,  and  the  remorse  caused  by  his 
irremediable  transgression  ;  he  again  sees  the  terrible 
Eucharist  which  he  was  made  to  witness  at  Montsalvat ; 
he  recalls  the  lamentations-  of  the  unfortunate  man  who 
had  failed  in  his  divine  mission  ;  he  even  hears  his  cries 
to  that  God  of  goodness  and  mercy  whose  sanctuary 
has  been  sullied  and  betrayed,  cries  which  echoed  in  the 
deepest  recesses  of  his  heart  and  illumined  him  with  a 
mystic  prescience.  This  terrible  vision  will  preserve 
him  from  the  magic  snares  prepared  for  his  ruin  ;  and, 
although  the  temptress  with  her  infernal  kisses  has 
kindled  in  his  veins  a  fire  which  tortures  and  consumes 
him,  he  violently  repulses  her  as  Amfortas  should  have 
done  when  she  displayed  to  him  the  fatal  seductions  cf 
her  devilish  beauty.  In  vain  Kundrv,  now  caught  in 
her  own  snare,  beseeches  him  for  some  response  to  the 
love  which  she  feels  burning  within  her,  in  vain  she 
seeks  to  excite  his  pity  by  telling  him  of  the  sufferings 
she  has  endured  since  the  insult  she  once  offered  to 
the  Saviour,  pursuing  him  with  her  cruel  and  impious 
laughter,   and    in   vain    she   begs   him   to   regenerate  and 

15 


226  THE    MUSIC    DRAMAS 

redeem  her  by  sharing  her  passion  :  Parsifal  does  not 
allow  himself  to  he  overcome,  a  divine  ray  has  filled 
his  heart  with  light,  and  illuminated  his  way.  If  the 
sinner  will  follow  him  in  the  road  of  renunciation  and 
sacrifice,  he  will  purify  her  perverse  spirit,  he  will  wash 
away  and  efface  her  criminal  past  in  the  fountain  of 
life  and  truth  ;  there  alone  is  salvation  for  her,  as  for 
all  those  who  have  sinned  ;  but  to  merit  this  unhoped- 
for grace  she  must  aid  him  whose  ruin  she  has  attempted 
by  facilitating  the  accomplishment  of  his  sacred  mission, 
and  she  must  help  him  to  find  again  the  mysterious  and 
inaccessible  ways  which  will  lead  him  to  Amfortas. 

At  the  sound  of  this  name,  Kundry  bursts  out  into  her 
infernal  and  cursed  laughter,  and  then,  intoxicated  with 
love  and  anger,  she  alternately  threatens  and  entreats  the 
hero,  promising,  if  he  will  yield  to  her  seductions,  to 
guide  him  along  the  roads  he  desires,  or,  if  he  resists 
^  her,  to  give  him  cause  to  fear  the  same  Lance  which 
formerly  overcame  and  wounded  him  whose  defender  he 
wishes  to  constitute  himself. 

She  again  proffers  her  caresses,  but  Parsifal  repulses 
,  her  with  horror;  she  falls  back,  uttering  the  most  terrible 
imprecations,  and  cursing  every  effort  he  shall  henceforth 
make  to  find  Alontsalvat  again. 

Klingsor,  running  at  the  sound  of  Kundry's  cries, 
brandishes  and  casts  with  great  force  the  sacred  Lance 
with  which  he  desires  to  wound  Parsifal;  but  the  weapon 
remains  miraculously  suspended  above  the  head  of  the 
hero,  who  grasps  it  and  with  it  solemnly  traces  in  the  air 
a  large  sign  of  the  cross.  At  this  sign,  the  enchantments 
woven    by    Klingsor    are    suddenly    broken  ;    the    magic 

tie  <  rumbles  away,  the  gardens  wither  and  become  as 
ami  as  a  desert,  the  flower-Maidens  lie  on  the  ground 
like  withered  plants,   and  Parsifal,   standing   on   the   wall 


OF    RICHARD    WAGNER 


22' 


before  departing,  addresses  Kundry,  who  is  stretched  on 
the  earth  exhausted  with  the  struggle,  and  reminds  her 
that  he  awaits  her  yonder  at  the  radiant  fountains  of  life, 
mercy,  and  pardon. 

Act    III. 

First  Tableau.  —  The  third  act  brings  us  back  to 
the  sacred  grounds  of  Montsalvat,  but  not  on  the  same 
side  as  in  the  first  act.  The  stage  shows  a  spring  land- 
scape ;  at  the  back,  a  flower-enamelled  meadow  gently 
sloping  upwards  ;  to  the  right,  the  skirts  of  a  wood  with 
a  spring  in  the  foreground  ;  on  the  left,  a  rock  against 
which  leans  a  poor  hut  inhabited  by  Gurnemanz.  The 
good  knight,  who  has  now  reached  a  great  age,  lives  as  a 
hermit  in  the  forest,  always  bewailing  the  distressful  days 
of  the  Grail  which  nothing  comes  to  succour. 

As  the  curtain  rises  it  is  scarcely  broad  daylight ;  but 
the  hermit  comes  out  of  his  dwelling,  attracted  by  a  plain- 
tive moaning  which  issues  from  a  thick  copse.  He 
approaches  and  discovers  the  inanimate  body  of  Kundry, 
whose  sleep  seems  to  be  troubled  by  dreadful  dreams. 
How  long  has  the  unfortunate  woman  been  among  the 
brushwood  ?  He  draws  her  forward,  lays  her  on  the 
sward,  and  tries  to  reanimate  her  by  a  vigorous  rubbing. 
At  last  she  is  partly  restored,  and,  after  looking  around 
her  in  stupefaction,  she  gazes  long  at  the  hermit.  She 
smooths  away  some  of  the  disorder  of  her  dress  and  hair  ; 
her  appearance  is  the  same,  although  less  wild  and  savage 
than  when  she  used  to  serve  the  knights.  Her  com- 
plexion  is  paler,  and  the  expression  of  her  eyes  has  some- 
how become  gentler,  and  more  submissive.  She  begins 
to  busy  herself  as  usual  with  domestic  duties  without 
speaking  a  word,  to  the  great  astonishment  of  the  old 
man,  who   is   surprised   at   receiving    no   thanks   for  his 


228  THE    MUSIC    DRAMAS 

solicitude.  He  speaks  to  her  about  it,  and  Kundry  an- 
swers in  a  harsh  and  broken  voice  with  the  single  word 
rvice."  But  alas  !  there  is  no  longer  any  need  for 
her  eager  devotion,  no  more  messages  to  carry  to  distant 
places,  the  servants  of  the  Grail  stay  in  their  own  domain, 
in  mourning  and  gloom  ! 

Kundry,  who  has  evidently  returned  to  her  humble 
office  of  servant  to  the  knights,  having  found  an  empty 
pitcher  in  the  hut  goes  to  the  spring  to  fill  it ;  from  there 
she  perceives  through  the  forest  a  new  arrival,  whom  she 
points  out  to  Gurnemanz. 

A  knight  in  black  armour,  with  closed  visor,  issues 
from  the  wood,  walking  with  slow  and  hesitating  step  ; 
it  is  Parsifal  who  has  long  been  wandering  in  search  of 
the  roads  to  the  Grail,  from  which  he  has  been  excluded 
by  the  malediction  of  the  enchantress.  He  sits  down  on 
a  mound,  exhausted,  and  only  makes  signs  with  his  head 
to  the  kind  and  friendly  questions  which  the  pious  hermit 
puts,  without  recognizing  him.  The  old  man  asks  him 
to  take-  oft"  his  armour,  as  it  is  not  proper  to  wear  it  in 
the  sacred  domain  :  he  must  not  march  here  armed, 
with  closed  \isor,  especially  on  this  anniversary  of  the 
Sa\  iour's  divine  expiation  for  our  sins.  Parsifal,  with 
Sture,  makes  him  understand  that  he  did  not  know 
it  was  Good  Friday,  and  then,  rising,  he  strikes  into  the 
ground  the  Lance  he  holds  in  his  hand,  he  lays  aside  his 
sword  and  buckler,  as  well  as  his  casque,  and,  falling  on 
his  knees,  prays  long  and  fervently.  Gurnemanz,  who, 
as  well  as  Kundry,  has  followed  the  movements  of  the 
knight  in  astonishment,  then  recognizes  him  ;  the  sight 
nt  him  tills  him  with  emotion  ;  Kundry  is  also  agitated 
at  the  presence  of  Parsifal,  and  turns  away  her  head. 

pure   hero,  having   ceased   his   meditations,  rises, 
and,   at   last,  addressing   the   old    knight,  tells   him   the 


OF   RICHARD    WAGNER  229 

happiness  he  feels  at  finding  him  again  after  so  many 
efforts  in  this  domain  of  the  Grail  which  he  has  sought 
so  long  in  vain  :  the  terrible  malediction  which  weighed 
upon  him  ceaselessly  led  him  astray  just  when  he  thought 
to  reach  the  goal,  raising  up  innumerable  foes,  from  whom 
he  received  many  wounds,  for  he  could  not  fight  with  the 
sacred  Lance,  regained  at  last  by  the  divine  aid,  as  he 
wished  to  bring  it  back  intact  and  absolutely  unsullied 
to  the  sanctuary  where  it  shall  henceforth  shine  with 
an  immaculate  splendour.  Gurnemanz  is  intensely 
moved  at  the  sight  of  the  sacred  weapon  which  he  has 
so  long  desired  again  to  see,  and  the  return  of  which 
will  change  the  sad  fortunes  of  the  Grail  to  a  new  era 
of  glory  and  joyfulness. 

He  tells  Parsifal  of  the  great  disasters  of  the  noble 
and  holy  brotherhood,  the  constantly  increasing  suf- 
ferings of  the  unfortunate  but  cowardly  king,  who,  in 
order*  to  put  an  end  to  his  tortures  and  call  death  to  his 
aid  more  quickly,  has  resolved  no  longer  to  distribute 
to  them  the  celestial  nourishment,  and  leaves  them  to 
feed  on  gross  food  which  no  longer  sustains  their  failing 
strength.  Finally,  the  greatest  misfortune  of  all,  the  old 
and  noble  Titurel,  deprived  in  common  with  all  the  rest 
of  the  comforting  and  sacred  vision  of  the  Grail,  has  not 
been  able  to  survive  his  misery,  and  has  just  died,  the 
victim  of  the  transgression  of  his   own  son. 

On  hearing  of  these  misfortunes,  Parsifal  shows  the 
most  profound  sorrow ;  he  accuses  himself  of  all  the 
evils  which  have  fallen  upon  the  Grail,  and,  overcome 
by  grief,  he  almost  falls  into  a  faint.  The  hermit  sup- 
ports him  and  Kundrv  hastens  to  revive  him  with  the 
water  which  she  brings  in  a  basin  ;  but  the  old  man 
sends  her  away,  and  brings  the  knight  to  the  sacred 
spring  to  bathe  his  limbs,  which  are  weary  with  his  long 


230  THE    MUSIC    DRAMAS 

journey  and  soiled  by  the  dust  of  the  wayside.  His  body 
must  be  as  pure  as  his  soul,  for,  doubtless,  this  very  day 
he  will  be  called  to  accomplish  a  great  and  solemn 
mission. 

While  Gurnemanz  takes  off  the  hero's  cuirass  and 
Kundiv  bathes  his  feet,  in  a  faint  voice  he  again  expresses 
the  desire  to  be  conducted  to  Amfortas  without  delay. 
The  old  knight  acquiesces  :  to-day  he  will  lead  him  to 
the  sanctuary  where  Titurel's  obsequies  are  to  be  held, 
during  which  his  unfortunate  son,  who  is  responsible  for 
the  death  of  that  great  man,  has  promised  once  more  to 
uncover  the  Grail  and  to  officiate,  however  great  his 
sufferings  may  be.  But  henceforth  he  must  resign  these 
sacred  duties,  which  he  is  no  longer  worthy  to  perform, 
leaving  them  to  him  who  has  come  victoriously  through  the 
dangerous  trials.  To  Parsifal  must  revert  the  titles  and 
rights  of  the  prince  and  pontiff  of  the  Grail.  He  feels 
this  as  well  as  Gurnemanz  ;  and  therefore  he  asks  the 
noble  servant  of  God  to  pour  upon  his  head  the  purify- 
ing water  of  baptism.  While  the  old  man  sprinkles  the 
bowed  head  of  the  neophyte,  Kundry,  a  new  Magdalen, 
piously  kneeling  before  her  lord,  anoints  his  feet,  which 
she  afterwards  wipes  with  her  own  thick  tresses,  with 
the  precious  perfume  of  a  golden  vial,  which  she  has  taken 
from  her  bosom.  Parsifal,  taking  this  vial  from  her 
hands,  then  asks  Gurnemanz  to  complete  the  work  of 
sanctification  and  invest  him  with  the  double  glory  of 
pontiff  and   king. 

The  old  knight,  whose  whole  life  has  been  a  long  ex- 
ample of  purity  and  austerity,  is  worthy  to  accomplish 
this  great  act  :  he  hails  Parsifal  as  the  elect  of  the  Lord, 
the  Guileless  Fool,  whose  compassion  for  the  sufferings 
ot  others  has  gained  for  him  the  power  of  performing 
the  heroic  action  which  is  going   to  restore  to   the   Grail 


OF    RICHARD    WAGNER  231 

its  vigour  and  lost  splendour.  Then,  pouring  upon  his 
head  the  contents  of  the  golden  vial,  he  creates  him 
Prince  and  King  of  the  Grail:  he  anoints  him  Priest, 
calling  down  upon  him  in  solemn  words  the  grace  and 
benediction  of  the  Most   High. 

Scarcely  is  he  invested  with  these  functions,  when 
Parsifal,  remembering  that  here  is  a  sinner  longing  for 
pardon  and  anxiously  awaiting  the  redemption  of  her 
soul,  dips  some  of  the  water  out  of  the  spring  with  his 
hands,  without  being  perceived,  and  pronounces  above 
the  head  of  the  still  kneeling  Kundry,  the  words  of 
redemption  which  will  efface  the  sins  of  the  accursed 
past.  The  poor  creature,  at  last  feeling  herself  under 
divine  clemency  and  protection,  bows  herself  to  the 
earth,  and  gives  free  course  to  her  emotion  and  her  tears. 

Then,  raising  his  eyes  to  the  brilliant  landscape 
around  him,  Parsifal  admires  the  beauty  of  the  woods 
and  meadows,  their  calm  blossoming  and  the  purity  of 
the  foliage  of  this  blessed  region,  contrasting  them 
with  the  flowers  of  evil  which  he  once  saw.  But  he  is 
surprised  at  Nature's  serenity  on  this  anniversary  of 
grief  and  mourning,  when  everything  that  lives  and 
breathes  should  lament  and  despair.  No,  says  Gurne- 
manz,  on  the  contrary,  Nature,  fertilized  by  the  tears 
and  repentance  of  the  sinner,  rises  revivified  by  this 
beneficent  dew;  all  creatures,  feeling  the  divine  pardon 
hovering  over  them,  break  out  in  a  hymn  of  gratitude  to 
the  divine  Redeemer;  man,  purified  by  the  sublime 
sacrifice,  addresses  a  long  sons  of  love  to  his  Saviour: 
joy  and  happiness  animate  all  creation,  and  this  is  what 
is  expressed  by  the  flowers  that  bloom  in  the  meadows 
when  they  show  themselves  so  brilliantly  on  this  blessed 
day  ;   it  is  the  Spell  of  Good  Friday  ! 

Kundry,   coming   out  of  her  ecstasy,  raises  her  eyes 


232  THE    MUSIC    DRAMAS 

full  of  tears  in  a  calm  and  profound  glance  which  seems 
to  implore  Parsifal's  pardon.  He  gently  kisses  her  on 
the  brow  and  thinks  of  the  companions  of  the  sinner, 
who  have  not  been  able  to  shed  tears  of  repentance  and 
forgiveness.  But  bells  are  heard  in  the  distance:  it  is 
Montsalvat  calling  together  its  servants  for  the  funeral 
ceremony. 

Gurnemanz  respectfully  clothes  him  whom  he  has 
just  anointed  King  with  the  armour  and  the  long  mantle 
of  the  Knights  of  the  Grail  which  he  has  fetched  from 
his  hut.  He  leads  the  way,  followed  by  the  elect,  who 
solemnly  bears  the  Lance,  and  by  the  humbly  repentant 
Kundrv.  The  country  rolls  by,  as  in  the  first  act,  but 
inversely,  for  now  we  are  on  the  other  slope  of  Mont- 
salvat: the  forest  disappears,  and,  after  having  passed 
the  doors  in  the  rock,  the  three  travellers  penetrate  into 
the  galleries,  where  are  visible  long  lines  of  knights  in 
mourning  robes.  The  sound  of  the  bells  comes  nearer, 
till  at  last  they  enter  the  great  hall  of  the  castle,  which 
is  denuded  of  its  tables  and  has  a  gloomy  appearance. 
The  side  doors  open  to  admit  the  knights,  who  on  one 
side  escort  the  coffin  of  Titurel,  and  on  the  other  accom- 
pany  the  litter  of  Amfortas,  which  is  preceded  by  the 
veiled   shrine  of  the  Grail. 

Second  Tableau.  —  A  catafalque  occupies  the  centre 
of  the  stage,  and  behind  it,  under  a  dais,  is  the  throne  of 
Amfortas. 

The  two  processions,  singing  an  antiphonal  chant, 
relate  the  lamentable  death  of  the  aged  Titurel  when 
deprived  of  the  comforting  sight  of  the  sacred  chalice, 
and  announce  the  last  celebration  of  the  holy  mysteries 
by  the  guilty  prince  whose  sin  has  been  the  cause  of  all 
these  great  misfortunes.  They  place  the  coffin  upon 
the  catafalque,  and   Amfortas   upon   his   couch,  and  call 


OF    RICHARD   WAGNER  233 

upon  him  to  fulfil  his  office  once  more.  But  he,  in 
terror,  rising  on  his  couch,  and  calling  upon  his  father, 
the  valiant  and  pure  hero,  begs  his  forgiveness,  prays 
him  to  take  pity  on  his  eternal  martyrdom,  and  not  to 
prolong  his  tortures  by  obliging  him  to  look  again  on 
the  sacred  cup,  the  sight  of  which  will  only  bring  an 
added  capacity  for  greater  sufferings.  He  calls  death  to 
his  aid  :  that  liberator,  whose  kindly  shades  he  already 
feels  about  him,  is  coming,  and  shall  he  make  a  new 
compact  with  a  life  of  endless  agony  ?  No,  no,  noth- 
ing shall  force  him  to  live  :  let  his  knights  complete  the 
work  of  destruction,  let  them  plunge  their  swords  into 
the  gaping  wound,  let  them  deliver  the  unhappy  man 
from  his  horrible  torment,  and  of  itself  the  Grail  will 
regain  its  brilliance  and  its  untarnished  splendour  !  In 
a  paroxysm  of  exaltation  and  agony,  Amfortas  tears  his 
robe  and  exposes  his  frightful  wound  ;  all  start  back  in 
affright.  Parsifal,  who,  accompanied  by  Gurnemanz 
and  Kundry,  has  come  in  without  being  noticed,  ad- 
vances, brandishing  the  sacred  Lance,  and  with  it 
touches  the  side  of  the  unfortunate  man ;  Amfortas, 
feeling  his  pain  eased  and  understanding  that  his  prayers 
have  at  last  been  answered,  is  overcome  with  religious 
emotion  ;  he  totters  and  falls  into  Gurnemanz's  arms. 
Parsifal  then  pronounces  words  of  benediction  and  peace 
over  him  and  presents  to  the  astonished  and  delighted 
servants  of  the  Grail,  the  sacred  Lance,  which  has  at 
last  been  reconquered  by  him,  the  Guileless  Fool,  whom 
the  Most  High,  in  his  compassion  for  human  suffering, 
has  endowed  with  the  necessary  power  to  accomplish 
this  act  of  heroism  and  redemption.  Then,  declaring 
himself  henceforth  the  servant  and  pontiff"  of  the  Grail, 
he  orders  the  shrine  to  be  unveiled,  and,  taking  out  the 
holy   cup,  he   prostrates   himself  before  the  sacred  relic 


\K 


234  THE    MUSIC    DRAMAS 

and   fervently  adores  it.      In  his  turn  he  celebrates   the 
Eucharist.      The  chalice  glows  and  illumines  the  whole 
assemblj    with    its   radiance.      Titurel,    momentarily  re- 
Y^P     \         viving,  rises  and  blesses  all   present,  while  a  white  dove 
C  v  descends  from  the  dome  and  hovers  above  the  elect,  who 

takes  the  Grail  and  with  it  makes  a  large  and  solemn 
sign  of  the  cross  above  the  adoring  crowd.  Kundry 
falls  at  the  feet  of  Parsifal,  before  whom  Amfortas  and 
Gurnemanz  bow  in  silent  admiration,  whilst  the  assem- 
bly of  knights,  pages,  and  squires,  who  are  stationed 
throughout  the  building  to  the  top  of  the  dome,  from 
every  part  of  the  church  with  subdued  voice  sing  a  great 
psalm  of  love  and  thanksgiving. 


<& 


OF    RICHARD    WAGNER  235 


CHAPTER    IV 

ANALYSIS    OF    THE    MUSIC 

"  The  musician  reveals  to  us  the  hid- 
den spirit  of  the  world,  he  makes 
himself  the  interpreter  of  the  pro- 
foundest  wisdom,  whilst  speaking  a 
language  which  reason  does  not  un- 
derstand." —  Schopenhauer. 

THIS  chapter  is  the  complement  of  the  preceding 
and  was  originally  intended  to  form  a  part  of  it. 
Just  as  in  studying  the  poems  it  was  impossible  for  me 
entirely  to  avoid  speaking  of  the  music,  so  also  it  will 
happen  here  that  I  shall  sometimes  be  compelled  to  refer 
to  the  dramatic  action  in  order  to  show  more  clearly  the 
exact  force  of  the  musical  action.  This  is  of  little  im- 
portance if  only  it  makes  it  clearer. 

And  first  I  would  remind  the  reader  that  the  special 
mission  of  music,  as  conceived  by  Wagner,  is  to  place 
the  spectator  in  direct  communication  with  the  very 
spirit  of  the  characters,  to  reveal  their  most  secret 
thoughts,  and  to  render  them  transparent,  so  to  speak, 
to  their  hearers,  who  will  thus  often  come  to  know  them 
better  than  they  know  themselves. 

The  music,  then,  may  often  contradict  the  words,  but 
not  the  action  ;  if,  for  example,  we  are  in  the  presence 
of  a  shrewd,  false,  or  subtle  person,  it  reveals  his  deceit 
and  permits  us  to  grasp  the  real  motive  of  his  actions, 
unknown  to  himself. 


236  THE    MUSIC    DRAMAS 

Let  us  add  that,  by  an  inevitable  stage  convention,  the 
actors  arc-  supposed  not  to  hear  the  perpetual  orchestral 
commentary. 

Now  let  us  enter  the  musical  domain  and  examine 
separately  each  of  its  constituent  elements. 

It  is  advisable  first  to  study  the  Wagnerian  Melody, 
and  to  form  a  clear  idea  of  what  it  consists. 

The  poverty  of  the  French  language  is  such  that  this 
word  melody,  infallibly  causes  us  to  think  of  melody  of 
Italian  origin,  the  cantilena,  based  on  the  regular  rhyth- 
mical return  of  musical  phrases,  the  sentiment  of  the  key, 
and  the  invariable  close  with  a  perfect  cadence,  as  has 
been  practised  not  only  in  Italv,  but  also  in  France,  from 
Monsigny  to  Felicien  David,  and  in  Germany  also  by 
Mozart  and   Haydn. 

Now  this  rhythmical  and  purely  tonal  form,  which, 
moreover,  is  perfectly  logical,  is  neither  unknown  to  nor 
scorned  bv  Wagner,  since  he  often  uses  it,  notably  in  the 
Romance  of  the  Evening  Star  and  the  March  in  Tann- 
bauser,  in  the  Chorus  of  Spinners  in  the  Fixing  Dutch- 
man, in  the  Nuptial  March,  religious  March,  and  Bridal 
Chorus  in  Lohengrin,  in  the  Prize  Song  and  motiv  of 
f::  Crown  in  Met si 'er singer,  and  on  many  other  occa- 
sions down  to  his   very   last  works. 

Hut  this  is  only  one  conception  of  melody,  and  it  is 
necessary  to  give  a  wider  interpretation  to  the  word  in 
order  to  understand  how  it  is  viewed  by  Wagner,  who 
has  declared  that,  according  to  his  idea,  "  in  music  all  is 
melody." 

Pure  melody,  melody  in  its  essence,  the  sole  kind  to 
which  this  name  should  really  be  applied,  is  that  which 
is   complete    in    itself  and    docs   not    need   any  harmonic 

operation  ;   in  scientific  musical  language  this  is  called, 


OF    RICHARD    WAGNER  23; 

rather,  homophony.  The  word  matters  little ;  homophony 
and  melopa-ia  are  purely  melodic  forms.  The  Hymns  of 
the  early  Christians,  as  we  see  from  the  Catholic  Plain- 
Song  given  without  accompaniment,  that  is  to  say  in  its 
native  purity,  were  also  of  a  purely  melodic  character; 
in  these,  however,  we  do  not  find  any  trace  of  symmet- 
rical phrases,  and  the  sentiment  of  the  key  was  under- 
stood quite  differently  than  at  the  present  day.  It  is  the 
same  with  Oriental  music  even  now,  and  with  many 
popular  airs  of  all  countries  which  have  been  created 
without  accompaniments,  and  to  which  none  could  be 
adapted  without  destroying  their  character  more  or  less. 
The  Lutheran  Chorale,  of  more  recent  creation,  possesses 
both  the  polyphonic  form  and  modern  tonality,  but  all 
idea  of  regular  rhythm  is  absent  from  it ;  the  pointing 
alone  is  indicated  by  cadences  followed  by  holds  ;  no 
one,  however,  would  think  of  denying  that  this  chant 
constitutes  a  true  melody.  In  the  time  of  Palestrina 
the  air  was  placed  most  frequently  in  the  lowest  part  of 
the  harmony,  the  bass.  There  was  a  time  when  the 
cantus  firmus  was  given  to  the  tenor  (dhcantus)  ;  to-day 
we  are  accustomed  to  place  it  in  the  highest  part. 
There  have  thus  been  various  acceptations  of  the  same 
term. 

It  must  not  be  forgotten  that,  etymologically,  melody 
comes  from  the  Greek  melos  (which  signifies  number, 
rhythm,  verse,  phrase),  and  ode  {song,  ode)  ;  that  is  to  say, 
properly  speaking,  the  song  of  a  phrase  or  verse.  By 
the  word  melos  the  ancients  understood  also  the  sweet- 
ness of  the  articulate  voice,  words  sung,  and  the  music 
of  speech. 

This  being  settled,  in  order  thoroughly  to  establish 
that  melody  may  be  understood  in  different  ways,  it  is  im- 
portant to  know  that   the  Wagnerian  melody  is  not  sub- 


238  THE    MUSIC    DRAMAS 

ject  to  the  laws  of  regular  symmetrical  construction,  nor 
toned  to  move  within  the  limits  of  one  tonality,  nor  yet 
to  end  with  a  perfect  cadence.  Wagner's  melody  is  free 
and  infinite  in  the  sense  of  not  being  finished,  that  is  to 
say,  never  ending  and  always  linking  itself  to  another 
melody,  thus  admitting  of  all  possible  modulations,  h 
is,  if  vou  prefer,  an  uninterrupted  sequence  of  melodic 
contours,  of  broken  bits  of  melody  having  more  or  less 
of  a  vocal  character.  The  example  of  such  interrupted 
melodies  is  given  by  Beethoven  in  his  symphonic  de- 
velopment, where  it  does  not  surprise  us;  but  it  was  left 
for  Wagner  to  transport  the  symphony  to  the  stage,  and 
make  of  it  the  living  commentary  on  the  action  and  the 
powerful  auxiliary  to  the  words. 

Most  frequently,  then,  this  continuous  melody  devolves 
upon  the  orchestra,  leaving  the  singer  every  liberty  in 
his  musical  declamation,  to  the  great  advantage  of  the 
diction.  These  two  points,  the  absolute  sincerity  of 
dramatic  accent  and  its  intimate  union  in  every  case  with 
the  symphonic  tissue,  may  be  considered  as  characteristic 
of  the  Wagnerian  style  in  its  highest  development. 

In  that  species  of  entertainment  which  has  been  much 
in  vogue  in  France  for  several  years,  and  which  is  called 
musical  recitation,  an  honourable  derivation  from  the 
ancient  melodrama,  we  see  an  elocutionist,  tragedian  or 
comedian,  reciting  verses,  the  sentiment  of  which  the 
orchestra,  or  sometimes,  alas!  the  piano,  endeavours  to 
intensify. 

This  combination,  although  hybrid,  may  attain  a  con- 
siderable power;1  but  how  difficult  must  be  the  execu- 
tion, and  also  how  complicated  for  the  listener  if  he 
wants,  to  be  equally  interested   in  the  music   and  in  the 

1  Meyerbeer,  one  of  the  first  to  employ  it,  has  given  an  example 
in  one  of  the  last  scenes  in  Struensee. 


OF    RICHARD    WAGNER  239 

poetry  recited  !  The  musician  and  the  declaimer,  hav- 
ing nothing  in  common,  either  time  or  intonation,  have 
no  means  of  establishing  perfect  relations  with  each 
other,  nor  of  keeping  strictly  together;  they  have  to  be 
content  with  a  compromise. 

If  for  declamation,  properly  so-called,  lyrical  decla- 
mation is  substituted,  if  the  verses  are  scanned  and  the 
intonation  regulated  according  to  musical  notation, 
whilst  leaving  to  the  orchestra  its  own  role  both  melodic 
and  symphonic,  then  one  part  of  the  Wagnerian  method 
will  have  been  realized,  that  is  the  intimate  union  of 
the  sung  words  with  the  orchestral  web,  both  converging 
to  the  same  end,  forcible  and  clear  dramatic  accent,  and 
both  preserving  their  most  energetic  means  of  expression 
side  by  side  with  their  own  liberty  of  action. 

But  another  element  enters  into  the  composition  of 
the  endless  melodic  tissue  as  Wagner  understands  it. 
This  is  the  Leit-motiv.1 — To  describe  its  nature  I 
will  make  use  of  a  comparison.  When  we  read  a  novel 
in  which  the  characters  or  localities  are  vigorously  drawn, 
as  in  Walter  Scott,  Victor  Hugo,  George  Sand,  Balzac, 
or  Zola,  these  characters  or  localities,  although  often 
purely  fanciful  and  creations  of  the  novelist's  imagina- 
tion, are  engraved  in  our  mind  in  a  certain  form,  sil- 
houette, or  perspective,  which  is  henceforth  unchangeable. 
When,  ten  years  later,  we  again  read  the  same  novel, 
these  same  images  and  no  others  will  be  outlined  in  our 
thoughts  with  the  same  attitudes,  the  same  features,  and 
the  same  details  as  when  we  first  read  of  them,  so 
strongly  and  vividly  that  we  seem  to  be  renewing  old 
acquaintances,  or  to  be  travelling  in  a  country  we  have 
already  visited;  but  if,  on  the  second  reading,  we  have 
1  Ty pe-moti'-v,  lezd'mg-motiv. 


24o  THE    MUSIC    DRAMAS 

an  illustrated  edition,  no  matter  how  talented  the  artist, 
we  are  often  shocked  at  not  recognizing  our  old  friends, 
or  at  not  seeing  our  ideal  landscape  drawn  as  we  had 
imagined  it. 

When,  therefore,  we  are  greatly  struck  by  the  descrip-- 
tion  of  anv  character,  we  instinctively  give  it  an  image 
which  remains  proper  to  it  (whilst  being  at  the  same 
time  personal  to  ourselves),  —  it  assumes  a  fixed  and 
definite  form.  Our  mind  cannot  afterwards  picture  it 
otherwise;  the  mere  thought  of  the  personage  calls  up 
his  image,  and,  inversely,  if  the  image  first  presents  itself 
to  our  memorv  it  brings  back  the  personage  with  all  the 
details  of  his  character  as  we  first  learnt  to  know  him. 

The  name  of  the  hero  himself  is  indissolubly  connected 
with  the  type  under  which  we  have  represented  him  to 
ourselves. 

It  is  the  same  with  any  described  locality,  or  an 
interior,  or  any  stirring  action,  a  murder,  a  tourney,  a 
scene  of  torture,  or  a  supernatural  apparition.  We  first 
picture  it  to  ourselves  under  the  influence  of  the  writer, 
and  it  thus  remains  definitely  fixed  in  our  mind. 

This  impression  is  not  effaced  with  time  ;  it  may  be 
modified  in  certain  details  by  reflection,  or  by  extended 
knowledge,  as  by  reading  other  works  in  which  the 
same  characters,  or  the  same  facts  are  presented  under 
another  aspect,  or  in  a  fresh  light ;  but  the  main  outlines 
endure. 

Every  one  has  experienced  this. 

Now  let  it  be  admitted,  which  is  not  difficult,  that 
^  agner  thought  in  music,  that  is  to  say,  that  every  objec- 
tive, or  subjective  idea  with  him  assumed  a  musical  form, 
a  melodic  contour,  which  thenceforth  clung  to  it,  and  I 
think  the  best  elementary  notion  of  what  a  Leit-motiv  is 
will  be  gained. 


OF    RICHARD    WAGNER  241 

It  is,  so  to  speak,  the  musical  embodiment  of  an  idea, 
and  Wagner  is  neither  the  first  nor  the  only  one  who 
has  thus  thought  in  music  and  given  to  a  character,  a 
fact,  or  a  particular  impression,  a  form  which  is  clearly 
recognizable  and   perceptible  to  the  hearing. 

Musical  language,  notwithstanding  its  lack  of  pre- 
cision, or  perhaps  for  that  very  reason,  constitutes  the 
highest,  purest,  and  most  sincere  expression  of  human 
thought,  the  one  furthest  removed  from  materialism  and 
conventionalism.  Whoever  comes  to  think  in  music 
as  he  would  think  in  the  language  he  is  accustomed  to 
use,  thereby  finds  the  horizon  of  his  ideas  strangely 
widens.  This  faculty  in  its  full  power  is  reserved  for 
the  elect,  but  there  is  not  a  single  true  musician  who 
has  not  felt  something  of  it. 

This  is  the  origin  of  the  Leit-motiv.  Embryonic 
traces  of  type-motive  may  be  already  gathered  in  Gluck, 
Mozart,  and  Beethoven  ; l  they  become  more  frequent 
in  Weber,  and  still  more  marked  in  Meyerbeer  and 
Berlioz,  the  latter,  Wagner's  contemporaries.  It  may 
be  said  that  the  faculty  of  giving  to  an  intellectual  con- 
ception, or  a  state  of  mind,  a  musical  contour  which 
becomes  its  quasi-hieroglyphic  representation,  has  existed 
in  a  latent  state  with  all  composers  at  all  times; 
but  no  one  had  thought  of  raising  it  to  a  principle  and 
making  it  one  of  the  fundamental  features  of  a  system. 
It  was  an  isolated,  though  expressive,  fact,  and  it  escaped 
the  attention  of  the  superficial  hearer. 

Wagner  himself,  in  his  first  works,  to  Rie>iz/\  does  not 

1  In  his  purely  symphonic  works,  Beethoven  had  no  reason  to 
attach  the  idea  of  a  character  to  a  motin),  but  most  certainly  every 
motii)  he  selected  for  working  out  is  associated  with  some  philo- 
sophical thought  which  stands  prominently  out  and  thus  become 
in  the  symphony  the  absolute  equivalent  of  what  the  Leit-mothv  is 
in  the  musical  drama. 

16 


24 2  THE   MUSIC    DRAMAS 

seem  to  pay  much  attention  to  it.  It  is  in  Der  Fliegende 
Hollander  that  we  find  his  first  and  extremely  modest 
application  of  it ;  three  characteristic  forms  are  found 
united  in  Scuta's  Ballade,  as  well  as  in  the  overture  :  a 
call,  a  figure  of  accompaniment,  and  a  purely  melodic 
contour  are  the  subjects  of  frequent  recurrence.  In 
Tannhauser  we  already  find  five  type-motive,  clearly 
characterized,  and  nine  at  least  in  Lohengrin;  but  their 
employment  is  intermittent  and  episodical,  being  limited 
to  certain  important  scenes  to  which  they  are  intended 
forcibly  to  call  attention  ;  if  they  do  not  yet  constitute 
the  essential  part  of  the  symphonic  development,  they  are, 
however,  already  employed  with  greater  insistence  and 
sagacity  than  ever  before. 

It  was  from  this  moment  that  Wagner  began  to  under- 
stand the  extraordinary  power  of  this  new  machinery, 
and  in  all  the  following  works  which  constitute  his  last 
manner,  in  Tristan,  in  Die  Meistersinger,  in  the  Tetra- 
logy, and  in  Parsifal,  we  see  it  henceforth  systematically 
used  with  conscious  purpose  and  reason. 

The  Wagnerian  Leit-motiv  is  always  short,  simple. 
and  easy  to  recognize  and  remember.  It  is  almost  always 
presented  for  the  first  time  in  its  entirety  with  the  words 
determining  the  meaning  attached  to  it,  or  at  a  moment 
when  the  scenic  action  does  not  permit  any  misunder- 
Standing  as  to  its  signification.  Afterwards  it  may  be 
represented  with  infinite  modifications,  either  in  rhythm, 
or  the  details  of  its  melodic  contour,  or  in  its  harmoniza- 
tion, or  instrumentation,  broken  into  fragments,  changed 
in  character,  ennobled  or  made  ridiculous  by  augmentation, 
diminution,  or  inversion,1  it  is  always  recognizable,  and 
ites  in  even  a  passive  listener  a  state  of  mind  similar 
t"  that  which  accompanied  its  first  appearance. 
1  Contrapuntal  methods. 


OF    RICHARD    WAGNER  243 

Therein  lies  its  power;  with  a  few  notes  it  calls  up  a 
whole  throng  of  ideas  and  without  any  more  effort  on 
the  part  of  the  listener  than  in  having  a  well-known  image 
passed  before  his  eyes.  It  is  a  musical  portrait,  though 
often  purely  imaginary,  or  one  that  we  are  willing  to 
accept. 

In  fact,  the  Leit-motive  that  have  an  imitative  and 
descriptive  character  are  in  the  minority  ;  I  will,  how- 
ever, cite  a  few  of  those  which  are  really  musical  onoma- 
topoeia ;  Kundry's  nervous  laughter,  the  gallop  of  the 
horses  in  The  Ride  of  the  JValkyries,  the  roarings  of  the 
Dragon,  the  noise  of  the  Forge,  and,  perhaps  above  all, 
the  undulation  of  the  waves  at  the  beginning  of  Das  Rhein- 
gold ;  these  are  addressed  directly  to  the  ear.  They  are 
sound-images. 

Others,  by  their  very  character,  strongly  call  to  mind 
the  idea  of  the  object  they  are  intended  to  represent : 
Walhalla  is  majestic  and  solemn ;  the  Sword  gleams ; 
the  Flames  crackle;  the  moth  of  the  Eucharist  in  Parsi- 
fal spreads  out  like  an  immense  sign  of  the  Cross,  etc. 
Here  again  it  is  difficult  to  be  mistaken.  Others 
equally  typical  might  be  quoted,  notably  in  Die  Meister- 
singer. 

But  this  is  not  an  indispensable  character  of  the  Leit- 
motiv, whose  form,  on  the  contrary,  is,  in  the  majority  of 
cases,  much  more  arbitrary  and  unrestrained.  This 
doubtless  accounts  for  the  notable  divergences  in  the 
names  which  various  commentators  give  to  the  same 
theme  ;  to  cite  only  one  example,  there  is  a  motiv  in 
Tristan  which  is  considered  by  one  as  representing  Ven- 
geance, by  another,  the  Hero,  and  by  a  third,  Fate.  To 
tell  the  truth,  this  is  not  a  matter  of  supreme  importance  ; 
it  is  not  a  name  that  must  be  associated  with  a  Leit-motiv, 
it  is   an    idea,  or    still    better,  an   assemblage    of   ideas, 


244  THE    MUSIC    DRAMAS 

a  philosophical  conception  :  the  name  is  only  a  con- 
venience ;  however,  in  the  following  pages  I  will  en- 
deavour  to  call  every  motiv  by  the  name  under  which  it 
is  most  generally  known,  in  order  to  avoid  criticism. 

Most  frequently  the  Leit-motiv  consists  of  a  melodic 
figure  of  several  notes  which  may  be  modified  even  in  its 
structure,  in  its  rhythm,  in  its  harmony,  or  in  its  orches- 
tration ;  these  various  transformations  never  deprive  it  of 
its  first  signification,  but  vary  either  its  importance  or 
expression  for  the  moment;  it  will  thus  pass  in  turn 
through  phases  of  tenderness,  heroism,  sadness,  or  joy, 
without  e\  er  severing  its  connection  with  its  own  original 
object ;  it  possesses  an  exquisite  sensibility,  for  example, 
when  it  has  to  depict  the  character  of  Walter  in  his 
knightly  pride,  and  then  sad.  anxious,  or,  again,  carica- 
tured by  his  rival  ;  it  acquires  a  touching  eloquence  when 
it  has  to  describe  Walhalla  destroyed,  or  in  ruins,  after 
having  made  us  acquainted  with  it  in  its  splendour;  it  is 
sometimes  wittv  to  excess;  when,  in  Die  IValkure,  the 
virtuous  Fricka  is  indignant  about  the  incestuous  love  of 
Siegmund  and  Sieglinde,  the  indulgent  orchestra  excuses 
them,  murmuring:  "  It  is  Spring-time,"  before  Wotan 
has  even  opened  his  lips  to  reply. 

In  other  and  rarer  cases,  the  Leit-motiv  assumes  an 
invariable  harmonic  form;  then  the  rhythmic  structure 
ami  instrumental  combinations  alone  may  be  changed;  I 
will  give  as  examples  the  Harmony  of  the  Wanderer; 
the  Harmony  of  the  Casque  (Tarnhelm) ;  the  Harmony 
of  Eternal  Sleep  in  the  Tetralogy ;  the  Harmony  of  the 
Swan  in  Lohengrin  and  Parsifal;  and  the  Harmony  of 
thi    Dream  in  l)i,   Meistersinger. 

More  rarely  the  characteristic  of  the  motif  is  its  per- 
sistent rhythm,  as  in  the  motif  of  the  Forge  in  Siegfried, 
and  again  in  The  Ride  of  the  Walkyries. 


OF    RICHARD    WAGNER  245 

To  whichever  of  these  categories  (melodic,  harmonic, 
or  rhythmic)  they  belong,  the  Lett-motive  always  present 
themselves  to  the  listener  without  exacting  any  efforts  of 
attention  or  research  on  his  part ;  Wagner  constantly 
places  them  in  relief,  in  some  way  or  other  accentuates 
them,  or  repeats  them  if  it  is  necessary,  and  they  cannot 
pass  by  unperceived  except  in  cases  where  they  are  of  no 
importance.  It  is,  then,  a  mistake  to  torture  your  mind 
by  searching  for  them  ;  they  will  come  to  you  of  them- 
selves, even  if  you  know  ever  so  little  about  their  com- 
position, as  soon  as  you  become  interested  in  the  dramatic 
action.  They  are  veritable  guides,  valuable  conductors 
who  explain  and  comment  upon  the  situations,  not  allow- 
ing you  to  go  astray  in  erroneous  suppositions,  and  elu- 
cidating the  scenario  like  the  explanation  that  accompanies 
a  plan. 

Several  forms  of  typical  motive  seemed  especially  to 
haunt  Wagner  and  return  to  his  mind  on  various  occa- 
sions :  such  as  the  two  chords  by  which  he  repre- 
sents the  Swan  in  Lohengrin  as  well  as  in  Parsifal.  And 
what  could  be  more  natural  ?  Is  it  not  always  the 
Swan  of  the  Grail  ?  Before  leaving  the  above  works, 
we  must  observe  that  the  final  notes  of  the  first  entry  of 
the  trombones  in  the  Prelude  of  Lohengrin  shadow  forth 
the  motiv  of  the  Lance  in  Parsifal ;  this  again  is  easily 
explained,  for  the  Prelude  of  Lohengrin  speaks  of  nothing 
but  the  mysteries  of  Montsalvat.  More  involuntary, 
perhaps,  and  yet  perfectly  justifiable,  is  the  likeness  of  a 
group  of  chords  frequently  repeated  in  the  entr'acte  of 
the  third  act  of  Tannhauser  (which  are  found  again  in 
Tannhauser's  recital  on  his  return  from  Rome)  to  the 
theme  of  Faith  in  Parsifal.  We  may  quote  other  an- 
alogies :  between  two  fragments,  one  belonging  to  the 
Romance  of  the  Evening  Star,  the  other  to  the  great 


246  THE   MUSIC    DRAMAS 

Duet  between  Tristan  and  Isolde  ;  also  between  a  phrase 
which  is  found  in  the  orchestra  in  Die  Meistersinger 
forty-four  bars  after  the  beginning  of  the  Choral  of  Jordan 
(Act  III.  Scene  I.),  and  another  beautiful  phrase  sung  by 
Fricka  at  the  ninety-seventh  bar  in  the  second  scene  of 
Das  Rheingold;  here  the  resemblance  is  more  harmonic 
than  melodic  ;  they  have  only  a  family  likeness  ;  but  again 
in  Die  Meistersinger^  twenty-one  bars  before  the  Memories 
of  Youth  (Act  III.  Scene  II.),  Walter's  melodic  contour 
reproduces  exactly  that  of  the  austere  goddess  of  mar- 
riage ;  now  precisely  at  this  moment,  he  is  speaking  of 
conjugal  love;  we  must  not  regard  this  as  a  chance 
effect ;  and  between  Wotan's  Anger  and  Brangane's 
Hesitation.  Finally,  on  two  occasions,  Wagner  musi- 
cally quotes  himself  with  an  admirable  appropriateness  : 
the  first  in  intercalating  two  motive  from  Tristan  (De- 
sire and  Consternation')  into  the  third  act  of  Die  Meister- 
singer a  little  before  the  celebrated  Quintet  of  Baptism; 
the  second  in  introducing  some  bars  from  Tannhauser 
into   Parsifal} 

One  rather  remarkable  thing  is  that  certain  of  these 
motive  have  a  marked  predilection  for  a  particular  key ; 
the  Walhalla  moth  affects  keys  abounding  in  flats ;  the 
Sword  appears  most  often  in  C  major;  the  Fire  much 
prefers  sharps;  the  Walkyrie  sleeps  in  E  major,  etc. 

Although  the  use  of  typical  motive  is  not  constant 
ami    exclusive,    which    would    cause   too   much   tension,. 

1   One  of  the  most  curious  resemblances  may  be  traced  between 

tin-  end  of  the  Overture  to  Der  Fliegende  Hollander  (the  first  fifteen 

in  ',•)  and  the  opening  of  Das  Rheingold  by  Woghnde's  entrance. 

tly    the   same    harmonic   method,   and   almost   the    same 

melodic  contour. 

(Although  Der  Fliegende  Hollander  is  not  included  in  this  study, 
which  is  limited  to  the  works  which  form  the  Bayreuth  repertoire, 
I  have  thought  it  interesting  to  note  this  reminiscence  after  an 
interval  of  eleven  years.) 


OF    RICHARD    WAGNER  247 

wc  must  recognize  in  them  the  most  important  materials 
of  the  Wagnerian  Symphony,  from  the  point  of  view  of 
melody  as  well  as  harmony. 

Wagner  never  demanded  extraordinary  voices.  He 
did  not  write  with  a  view  to  giving  such  or  such  a  singer 
the  opportunity  to  sing  a  note  which  he  alone  could 
reach,  or  to  make  a  parade  of  his  virtuosity.  He  wrote 
simply  for  soprano,  contralto,  tenor,  or  bass,  mezzo- 
soprano,  or  barytone,  not  demanding  from  any  one  more 
than  he  could  normally  produce  ;  keeping  each  voice  in 
the  tessitura  which  suits  it,  but  utterly  doing  away  with 
florid  ornaments,  roulades,  and  trills,  which  the  Italian 
school  considered  the  embellishment  of  vocal  style,  and 
from  which  neither  the  German  nor  the  French  school 
was  entirely  free  in  his  day. 

He  writes  above  all  and  before  all  for  musicians,  for 
people  who  know  how  to  sing  true  and  in  exact  time; 
there  is  no  question  here  of  holding  and  dying  away  on 
a  high  note  ;  and  the  orchestral  conductor  is  not  there  to 
follow  the  singer ;  for  the  very  form  of  his  melody,  as 
we  have  just  described,  which  constantly  passes  from  the 
stage  to  the  orchestra  and  from  the  orchestra  to  the 
stage  (remaining  much  the  longest  in  the  orchestra),  de- 
mands a  symphonic  interpretation.  It  cannot  be  other- 
wise, and  that  is  the  secret  of  his  power;  it  is  instru- 
mental and  a  commentary  on  the  verse  or  on  the  action, 
and  this  is  where  it  differs  from  the  Italian  and  French 
melody  which  is  based  on  symmetrical  rhythmical  con- 
struction and  the  brilliant  effect  of  the  vocal  technique. 

Melodic  ornaments  are  rare  in  Wagner;  the  gruppetto 
seems  reserved  for  the  expression  of  amorous  or  passionate 
sentiments,  or,  at  least,  it  conveys  the  idea  of  supreme 
elegance. 


248  THE   MUSIC    DRAMAS 

But  what  is  far  from  rare  is  the  episodical  employment 
of  the  most  frankly  Italian  melodic  forms.  See  the 
Love  Song  in  Tristan  (p.  298) ;  Flosshilde's  phrase  in 
D-flat  in  the  first  tableau  of  Das  Rheingold\  then  at 
Scene  II.,  the  second  part  of  Fricka's  phrase  (already 
cited  on  p.  246),  immediately  taken  up  by  Wotan  a  tone 
lower,  and  which  has  received  the  name  of  Love's  Fascina- 
tion (p.  353).  It  is  necessary,  moreover,  to  remember 
that  Wagner  was  a  great  admirer,  at  least  at  one  time, 
of  the  elegance  and  suppleness  of  Bellini's  vocal  phrases. 
tl  With  Bellini  that  song  so  simply  noble  and  beautiful 
which  charmed  us  was  pure  melody ;  to  believe  and 
maintain  that  is  certainly  no  sin  ;  perhaps  it  is  no  more 
a  sin  than  it  is  to  pray  to  Heaven  before  lying  down 
that  the  idea  of  such  melodies  and  such  a  method  of 
treating  song  may  come  to  the  German  composers." 
(Richard   Wagner,    Bellini.} 

However  momentary  it  may  have  been,  this  impres- 
sion existed,  and  a  trace  of  it  has  always  remained. 
Wagner,  then,  was  an  eclectic  ;  in  every  school  he  was 
able  to  discern  what  was  really  beautiful,  and  truly  with 
Bellini  it  was  not  harmony. 

Wagner's  System  of  Harmony  greatly  resembles  that 
of  J.  S.  Bach  and  Beethoven  in  his  third  period;  that  is 
to  say,  he  pays  more  attention  to  the  rules  of  counter- 
point than  to  harmony  properly  so-called.  Not  that  he 
ignored  the  latter,  but  the  necessity  of  frequently  com- 
bining the  Lett-motive  with  each  other  simultaneously, 
forced  bim  to  give  most  weight  to  the  independent  prog- 
ress of  the  paits,  as  is  allowable  in  the  fugal  style;  it 
was  the  only  way  to  play  freely  with  these  Leit-motive, 
to  make  them  appear  sometimes  in  one  part,  sometimes 
in  another,  constantly  varying  their  form,  to  make  them 


OF    RICHARD    WAGNER  249 

cross,  interlace,  overlap,  and  run  after  one  another,  exactly 
as  the  subject  and  its  counter-subjects  do  in  a  fugue. 

It  would  force  us  to  enter  into  considerations  far  too 
technical,  to  analyze  here  the  harmonic  structure  of 
Wagner's  works.  Let  us  simply  say  that  those  who 
think  they  perceive  errors  in  certain  passages  are  abso- 
lutely mistaken  ;  if  certain  combinations  of  chords  are 
irregular  according  to  the  strict  rules  of  harmony,  they 
appear  irrefutably  logical  when  they  are  considered  from 
the  highest  view  of  counterpoint,  a  considerably  enlarged 
and  dramatized  counterpoint,  untrammelled,  and  enriched 
with  the  boldness  of  modern  harmony,  together  with  the 
very  frequent  employment  of  the  chord  of  the  augmented 
fifth  and  its  inversions  (which  is  already  found  in  Schu- 
mann), with  an  extraordinary  wealth  of  pedal-points, 
often  disguised,  and  a  very  evident  contempt  of  conven- 
tional restrictions. 

Altogether,  it  is  incontestable  that  this  system  is  not 
simple,  but  its  complications  are  always  ingenious  and 
appropriate  to  the  circumstances.  Besides,  these  com- 
plications are  not  continual ;  it  is  sufficient  to  cite  the 
I  Valhalla-mot  iv  (Das  Rhehigold,  at  the  beginning  of  Scene 
II.),  which  is  entirely  constructed  of  perfect  chords; 
other  examples  are  not  rare,  but  nevertheless  they  are 
exceptional. 

The  management  of  modulations,  from  a  purely  musi- 
cal point  of  view,  does  not  seem  of  much  importance  to 
Wagner,  and  in  this  he  parts  company  with  Beethoven 
and  Bach  ;  his  choice  of  key  is  guided  solely  by  the 
dramatic  interest  and  by  considerations  of  the  province 
of  the  orchestra  ;  the  action  once  begun,  the  modulation 
is  perpetual,  and,  in  many  places,  the  most  ingenious  per- 
son would  find  it  impossible  to  name  the  key  at  any 
given   moment ;  the  result  is  an  impression   of  life  and 


25o  THE   MUSIC    DRAMAS 

struggle  of  inconceivable  power.  On  the  other  hand, 
at  the  beginning  of  the  acts,  we  find  him  attaching  an 
extraordinary  importance  to  the  establishment  of  the 
first  tonality,  an  importance  to  which  I  shall  have  occa- 
sion to  return. 

Perfect  cadence  is  extremely  rare ;  this  is  the  inevitable 
consequence  of  the  system  of  continuous  melody  ;  in 
fact,  the  sense  of  perfect  cadence  is  conclusion,  comple- 
tion ;  now,  all  Wagner's  phrases  being  linked  to  each 
other  without  constantly  coming  to  an  end,  the  cadence 
must  be  reserved  almost  exclusively  for  the  ends  of  the 
acts,  or  sometimes  of  the  scenes,  where  rest  is  obliga- 
tory ;  they  are  indeed  met  with  here  and  there  in  the 
course  of  the  music,  but  then  they  are  attenuated,  dis- 
simulated, and  unimportant;  they  are  only  to  be  found 
clearly  characterized,  and  well  and  prominently  brought 
forward,  in  the  great  finales.  No  composer  has  so  spar- 
ingly employed  the  perfect  cadence  ;  there  is,  however, 
one  case  in  which  he  has  made  a  very  characteristic  use 
of  it,  and  one  which  is  so  much  the  more  striking  be- 
cause it  seems  to  be  reserved  for  this  situation ;  it  is 
when  the  words  assert  the  specially  loyal  and  chivalrous 
side  of  a  hero's  character;  the  following  page  (251) 
shows  three  remarkable  examples,  taken  from  different 
works,  of  this  beautiful  and  noble  form,  of  a  solemn  and 
heraldic  character,  which  is  very  frequent  with  Wagner 
in  this  special  case  and  which  may  be  called  the  formula 
of  loyalty,  and  is  only  found  in  moments  of  great  emo- 
tion, in  the  announcement  of  death  (JValkure)and  in  the 
Funeral  March  of  Siegfried  (Die  Gotterddmmerung). 

Generally  speaking,  consonant  chords  are  much  less 
frequent  than  dissonant  chords,  and,  moreover,  they 
rarely  appear  in  their  native  purity,  but  almost  always 
modified    by    the   artifices    of   composition,    by   retards, 


OF    RICHARD    WAGNER 


251 


(LOHENGRIN  -Last Scene) 


LOHENGRIN 


SeinR.it-  ter    ich         bin  Lohenrjrin    <j(Lnannl 
His   Knight  am  I,        and  Lohengrin  my  name 


I 


fe* 


(DIE  WALKURE-Act  II.    Scene  IV, 
BRUNNHiLDE 


m 


^  Jj'lj 


tcp 


r — rr=? 


-fdnqt      dichhold    mit       hoch 
hold        thee  long    with      high 


-  hei.ligeniGruss. 
greeting  and  love 


252  THE    MUSIC    DRAMAS 

appoggiaturas,  and  alterations,  more  especially  many 
alterations,  which  deprive  them  to  a  great  extent  of  their 
reposeful  character.  All  that  is  intentional  and  logical. 
It  is  certain  that  the  dissonant  chord  with  its  notes  or 
contracted  progression,  and  its  various  resolutions,  is  in- 
finitely more  vital  and  full  of  passion  than  the  perfect 
chord,  which  Wagner  reserves  for  the  expression  of 
calm  and  placid  feelings,  which  are  more  rare  in  the 
drama. 

As  for  the  harsh  effects  which  sometimes  astonish  the 
reader  of  the  pianoforte  score,  they  are  considerably  les- 
sened bv  the  selection  oi~  the  instruments  and  the  variety 
of  the  timbres.  They  are  more  apparent  than  real  ; 
they  disappear  in  the  symphonic  rendering,  and  at  Bay- 
reuth  they  are  not  in  the  least  noticeable ;  the  whole 
combination  is  admirably  blended  with  an  incomparable 
softness,  harmoniousness,  and  fulness,  except  in  rare 
cases,  which  are   intended   for  picturesque   effect. 

The  attention  of  the  listener  is  attracted  by  the  indi- 
vidual movement  of  the  parts,  by  their  expressive  char- 
acter, by  the  interest  which  they  gain  from  the  suggestive 
appearance  of  the  Leit-motive,  and  by  the  diversity  of  the 
tones  t'\  the  instruments,  much  more  strongly  than  by 
the  individuality  of  the  chords  considered  by  themselves. 
Each  symphonic  voice  sings  an  independent  part,  having 
its  individual  meaning,  replying  to  the  others,  and  always 
appropriate  to  the  nature  and  tone  of  the  interpreting 
instrument,  without  any  traces  of  the  idiotic  set  forms 
of  ordinary  accompaniment,  and  without  padding  of  any 
kind. 

Formerly  people  said  that  in  Wagner  there  was  no 
melody  ;  I  think  I  am  more  in  the  right  in  saying  that 
there  are  no  accompaniments,  but  only  melodies  laid  one 
upon  the  other. 


OF    RICHARD    WAGNER  253 

For  the  sake  of  completeness  let  us  further  note  the 
total  absence  of  harmonic  progressions,  which  almost  all 
schools  have  now  abandoned  on  account  of  their  absurd- 
ity ;  the  suppression  of  repetitions,  or  of  the  reprises  of 
a  principal  motiv  announced  by  a  rentr'ee,  exactly  as  we 
notice  the  suppression  of  all  repetition  of  verses  or  words; 
always  and  everywhere  something  new,  invention,  things 
unexpected  and  ingenious,  always  creation,  sincerity,  and 
life,  and  I  think  we  shall  have  touched  upon  the  prin- 
cipal characteristics  of  what  is  called,  a  trifle  too  briefly, 
the  Wagnerian  formula,  a  formula  which  cannot  be  too 
much  admired  and  examined,  but  which  our  composers 
will  do  well  not  to  imitate,  and  this  for  two  reasons. 

The  first,  quite  sufficient  in  itself,  is  that  it  is  impos- 
sible :  "  To  continue  it  in  the  true  sense  of  the  word,  a  man 
of  the  sa?ne  breadth  and  calibre  is  required ;  and  if  this  man 
exists,  he  ivill  not  consent  to  play  the  role  of  an  imitator :  he 
himself  tvill  ivish  to  invent  something  new."  1 

The  second  is  that  it  is  necessary  to  belong  to  his 
country  and  to  speak  his  language.  Now,  just  as  Wag- 
ner deplored  the  tendency  of  German  musicians  to 
imitate  French  art  in  the  following  words :  "  /  have 
recognized  in  the  French  an  admirable  art  of  giving  precise 
and  elegant  forms  to  life  and  thought ;  I  have  said,  on  the 
contrary,  that  the  Germans  when  they  try  to  attain  this 
perfection  of  form  seem  to  me  to  be  heavy  and  weak"  2  so  I 
say  to  the  French,  in  their  turn,  that  they  must  guard 
against  that  false  kind  of  admiration  which  leads  to 
plagiarism  ;  they  must  keep  intact  the  qualities  proper 
to  our  national  style,  which  always  have  been  and  always 
will  be,  in  literature  as  in  music,  clearness,  elegance, 
and  sincerity  of  expression. 

1   La  Musique  et  les  Musiciens,  p.  494. 

*  R.Wagner,  Lettre  d  M.  Monod  (October  25,  1876). 


254  THE    MUSIC    DRAMAS 

If  Wagner  were  here  to  advise  them,  that  is  certainly 
what  his  own  logic  would  lead  him  to  say. 

Wagner's  Orchestration  is  richer  and  fuller  of 
colour  than  Beethoven's.  That  certainly  is  largely  the 
result  of  the  new  instruments  which  he  has  introduced, 
the  cor-anglais,  the  bass-clarinet,  the  contra-bassoon, 
trombones,1  the  family  of  tubas,  and  the  bass  trumpet;2 
partly  also  it  is  the  result  of  the  way  in  which  he  has 
completed  the  group  of  wood-wind  instruments,  in  writ- 
ing three  parts  to  the  flute,  three  to  the  oboes,  and  three 
to  the  clarinets,  etc.  (instead  of  two,  which  were  gener- 
ally used  up  to  his  time,  except  by  Meyerbeer  and 
Berlioz),  by  which  he  is  enabled  to  obtain  a  complete 
chord  in  the  same  timbre*',  partly,  too,  he  owes  it  to 
the  frequent  subdivision  of  the  stringed-instruments; 
but  particularly  and  above  all  to  his  profound  knowledge 
of  instrumentation  and  to  his  unparalleled  ingenuity, 
which  has  led  him  on  to  prodigious  discoveries. 

Wagner  treats  every  instrument  with  the  same  cer- 
tainty of  touch  as  if  he  had  played  it  himself;  he  knows, 
as  no  one  else  knows,  how  to  avail  himself  of  its 
resources,  and  he  demands  nothing  of  it  beyond  what 
is  entirel)  within  their  capacity.  He  is  often  difficult  to 
play,  but  it  is  never  an  ungrateful  task,  for  he  is  never 
awkward  nor  clumsy. 

Notwithstanding  the  large  number  of  performers  he 
requires,  we  never  see  him  have  recourse  to  complicated 
methods  in  his  orchestration;  the  combinations  are 
always  clear  and   simple,  the  result  of  which   is  a  sonor- 

thoven  had  already  used   the  contra-bassoon  and  the  trom- 
bon<    ,  l>ut  only  in  exceptional  cases. 

-  The  bass-trumpet  only  figures  in  the  Tetralogy. 
•  Organ-tone. 


OF  RICHARD    WAGNER  255 

ity  which  is  at  once  plain  and  powerful.  The  Lett- 
motive  ceaselessly  move  about  the  whole  orchestra, 
passing  from  one  desk  to  another ;  but,  nevertheless, 
each  one  has  a  predilection  for  one  instrument,  or  one 
group,  which  harmonizes  with  its  character,  on  which  it 
was  first  heard,  and  to  which  it  returns  to  take  up  its 
abode  every  time  it  must  make  itself  heard  with  pre- 
ponderating importance  ;  sometimes  we  recognize  it  from 
its  very  first  note  by  means  of  this  characteristic  timbre. 

I  think  we  now  clearly  see  how,  in  Wagner's  musical 
style,  everything  combines,  —  melody,  harmony,  and 
orchestration,  in  accentuating  and  determining  the  dra- 
matic action  :  the  melody,  melopoeia,  or  measured  recita- 
tive, by  its  fine  diction  and  the  constant  care  given  to 
the  excellence  of  its  prosody  ;  the  harmony,  by  its  bold 
methods  and  the  employment  of  Lelt-motive ;  and  the 
orchestration,  by   its   unparalleled   richness   of  colour. 

Before  commencing  to  analyze  each  work  separately, 
I  would  call  the  reader's  attention  to  the  purely  sym- 
phonic part  which  constitutes  the  Preludes,  to  which 
Wagner  has  attached  a  special  interest  and  a  psycho- 
logical character,  of  which,  alas !  people  at  the  opera 
are  entirely  unconscious  ;  for  if  they  were  aware  of  his 
intention,  they  probably  would  not  take  advantage  of 
this  moment  to  talk  more  loudly  than  usual,  to  blow 
their  noses,  and  to  slam  the  doors,  etc.,  —  they  would 
do  all  that  beforehand  as  at  Bayreuth. 

Up  to  and  including  Tannhauser,  Wagner  followed 
the  usual  custom  of  writing  Overtures  to  his  operas. 

Beginning  with  Lohengrin,  we  find  Preludes,  and 
every    act    has    its   own.1 

1  There  is  one  single  exception,  the  Overture  to  Die  Mei ster singer \ 
but  Die  Meistersinger  is  itself  an  exception  in  Wagner's  work. 


256 


THE   MUSIC    DRAMAS 


In  the  Preludes,  Wagner  the  philosopher  addresses 
himself  directly  to  the  soul  by  means  of  music;  he  puts 
it  through  a  kind  of  preparatory  course  and  gets  us  into 
the  state  of  mind  he  desires,  and  this  without  ever 
making  these  instrumental  pieces  of  excessive  length. 

The  essential  aim  of  a  Prelude,  its  raison  d'etre,  is  to 
prepare  the  spectator's  mind  and  bring  it  into  that  state 
which  the  author  considers  most  favourable  for  the 
reception  in  all  its  fulness  of  the  impression  to  be  pro- 
duced by  the  coming  act.  This  end  may  be  attained  in 
at  least  four  different  ways : 

1.  By  simply  calming  the  mind,  that  is  to  say,  by 
freeing  it  from  all  exterior  preoccupations,  and  endow- 
ing it  with  perfect  repose,  so  that  it  may  become  malle- 
able and  easily  affected  by  the  slightest  emotion ; 

2.  By  recalling  to  the  spectator's  mind  the  action 
that  has  gone  before  and  which  he  may  have  lost  sight 
of  during  the  entr'acte,  the  recollection  of  which  is  neces- 
sary for  the  perfect  comprehension  of  what  follows; 

3.  Inversely,  by  drawing  in  advance  on  the  coming 
act,  so  as  to  prepare  the  listener  for  the  events  which 
arc  about  to  take  place, —  in  this  case  the  action  to 
some  extent  begins  during  the  Prelude;' 

4.  By  rilling  the  mind  with  a  vague  sense* of  mystery, 
by  exciting  the  curiositv  and  captivating  the  attention 
with  undecided  harmonics,  strange  tones,  and  unex- 
pected and  even  incoherent  modulations,  which  give  no 
hint  of  what  is  coming  next,  —  this  is  the  most  affect- 
ing way,  the  one  which  best  prepares  the  heart  for 
poignant  emotions. 

W  agner  uses  all  these  forms  according  to  circum- 
stances ;  without  multiplying  examples,  I  will  give  one 
of  each  class,  leaving  to  the  reader  the  task  of  com- 
pleting them : 


OF    RICHARD   WAGNER  257 

First  form  :   calm  —  Das  Rheingold. 

Second  form  :   recalling  motive  —  third  act  of  Siegfried. 

Third  form  :  announcement  of  motive  —  second  act 
of  Lohengrin. 

Fourth  form  :   vagueness  —  third  act  of  Parsifal. 
The  third   form,  however,  and   next  to  that  the  second, 
are  by  far  the  most  frequent. 

One  very  interesting  point  is  the  extraordinary  insist- 
ence with  which  Wagner  establishes  the  tonality  at  the 
beginning  of  many  of  his  Preludes  ;  we  should  vainly 
seek  analogous  examples  in  any  other  composer;  it  is 
particularly  in  the  Tetralogy,  which  is  of  gigantic  pro- 
portions throughout,  that  this  system  is  found  in  the 
most  striking  manner. 

In  Das  Rheingold  the  first  136  bars  are  built  upon  one 
single  perfect  chord  in  E-flat  major;  the  Prelude  of  the 
second  scene  for  15  bars  only  contains  perfect  chords  of 
the  fundamental  tone  belonging  to  the  key  of  D-flat,  or 
related  keys  and  leading  into  the  key  of  the  dominant ; 
the  second  scene  is  linked  to  the  third  by  means  of  a 
pedal  of  the  dominant  on  F,  first  in  the  bass,  then  in 
the  treble,  which  is  kept  up  for  55  bars. 

In  the  first  act  of  Die  Walkure  the  tonality  is  estab- 
lished by  the  treble  pedal  of  the  tonic,  which  lasts  for 
64  bars,  after  which  it  is  still  long  before  we  leave  the 
key  of  D.  In  the  third  act  the  predominance  of  the 
key  of  B-minor,  contrasted  with  the  dominant  F-sharp, 
is  accented  and  maintained  for  34  bars  till  the  rising  of 
the  curtain. 

In  the  first  act  of  Siegfried  there  is  a  long  bass  pedal  of 
the  dominant  on  the  note  F  for  50  bars,  which  becomes 
a  treble  pedal  for  33  bars  more,  and  which  is  succeeded 
by  a  pedal  of  the  tonic  of  12  bars  on  B-flat.  That  is 
Wagner's  way  of  thoroughlv  establishing  the  tonality. 

17 


258  THE    MUSIC    DRAMAS 

In  the  third  act  of  Gbtterd'dmmerung  it  is  still  more 
strongly  marked,  for  the  key  of  F  is  not  departed  from 
for  149  bars,  including  not  only  the  Prelude,  but  also 
the  Trio  of  the  Undines  which  follows. 

Need  I  still  cite  the  Prelude  to  the  first  act  of  Parsifal, 
which,  with  the  exception  of  a  few  bars,  scarcely  leaves 
the  key  of  A-rlat  ? 

Outside  the  Preludes,  long  and  imposing  holds  are  also 
sufficiently  frequent ;  the  theme  of  the  Rainbow,  almost 
at  the  end  of  Das  Rheingold,  has  a  perfect  chord  on  G-flat, 
which  is  sustained  for  20  bars  in  a  slow  movement ;  in 
Lohengrin  the  long  flourish  of  trumpets  which  salutes  the 
rising  of  the  sun  in  Act  II.,  Scene  III.,  contains  no  less 
than  58  bars,  augmented  by  holds  on  the  one  perfect  major 
chord  of  A,  to  which  immediately  succeed  (with  one  single 
transitorv  chord),  15  bars  on  the  perfect  chord  of  C 
major.  We  might  multiply  these  interesting  examples, 
which  demonstrate  that  it  is  especially  at  the  beginning 
of  the  acts  and  scenes  that  Wagner  likes  to  establish 
thoroughly  the  tonality,  unlike  Beethoven  who  much 
preferred  strongly  to  re-establish  it  at  the  final  pero- 
ration. 

The   Ensembles  are  rare,  except   in    Tannhduser  and 

Lohengrin,  which  still  partake,  particularly  in  this  feature, 
of  the  form  of  the  opera. 

From  Tristan  onwards,  with  the  exception  of  Die 
Meister singer,  where  they  play  a  considerable  part,  they 
may  be  easily  counted. 

In  the-  Duct  which  ends  the  first  act  of  Tristan  there 
is   one  ensemble  of  42   bars;   the  great  Duet  of  Act   II., 

ne  II.,  is  made  up  of  four  ensembles,  which  are  all 
admirable,  the  first  beginning  with  a  dialogue,  becoming 
more  and   more   close,  the  last  containing  very  curious 


OF    RICHARD    WAGNER  259 

dissonances,  as  dreadful  to  look  at  in  the  score  as  they 
are  sweet  to  listen  to. 

In  Das  Rbeingold  there  are  the  nymphs'  cries  of  joy 
and  the  Adoration  of  the  Gold;  in  Scene  III.,  Wotan  and 
Loge  speak  several  words  together ;  in  Die  IValkiire,  the 
vocal  Octet  of  the  Ride  of  the  IValkyries,  the  eight  pails 
of  which  are  sometimes  independent ;  in  Siegfried  the 
few  simultaneous  notes  of  Mime  and  Siegfried  at  the  end 
of  the  first  act  can  scarcely  be  considered  in  this  light ; 
but  in  the  third  act,  at  the  moment  of  Briinnhilde's 
awaking,  there  is  a  true  ensemble  of  a  dozen  bars,  and 
then  another,  more  developed,  which  ends  the  piece;  in 
Gotterddmmerung  the  Norns  sing  together  for  a  moment, 
but  in  unison  ;  then  Siegfried  and  Briinnhilde  end  their 
Duet  with  a  few  exclamations  in  thirds  and  sixths ; 
there  is  another  ensemble  of  a  few  bars  when  Siegfried 
and  Gunther  conclude  their  pact,  cup  in  hand  ;  at  the 
end  of  the  second  act  there  is  a  true  Trio  between 
Briinnhilde,  Gunther,  and  Hagen ;  in  the  third  act  is 
the  delightful  Trio  of  the  Rhine-Daughters,  which  is 
fully  developed,  and  becomes  a  Ouartet  on  Siegfried's 
arrival. 

In  Parsifal  there  is  not  a  single  one.  In  this  enume- 
ration it  will  be  noticed  that  ensembles  never  occur  ex- 
cept between  characters  who  have  analogous  sentiments. 
Everywhere  else  each  one  speaks  in  his  turn,  as  in  the 
classic  tragedv,  which  is  far  more  intelligent,  and  with- 
out repeating  the  verses,  which  is  far  more  natural  and 
lifelike. 

Little  is  known  of  Wagner's  Manner  of  Compos- 
ing. It  is  certain  that  he  first  wrote  his  poem  and  did 
not  begin  to  set  it  to  music  until  it  was  completely  fin- 
ished, sometimes  even  after  having  let  it  lie  untouched 


26o  THE    MUSIC    DRAMAS 

for  several  years  :  the  poem  of  Tannhauser  was  finished 
in  1843,  and  the  music  in  1845  ;  the  poem  of" Das  Rheln- 
gold  was  finished  in  1852,  and  the  music  in  1854. 

As  for  the  music,  he  composed  it  as  Beethoven  did, 
walking  about  and  gesticulating;  when  it  began  to  take 
form,  he  played  it  on  the  piano,  awkwardly  enough,  it 
is  said,  but  so  as  to  impress  the  outline  clearly  on  his 
memory,  not  till  then  did  he  begin  to  write  it  out. 
He  wrote  on  two  or  three  staves,  as  if  for  the  piano 
or  organ,  sometimes  also  he  would  write  on  a  larger 
number,  and  he  did  not  proceed  to  the  orchestration 
until  he  had  completed  the  composition.  Gbtterdam- 
tnerung  was  finished  in  1872,  and  its  orchestration  in 
1874;  Parsifal  was  finished  in  1879,  and  its  orchestra- 
tion in  1882. 

Moreover,  he  always  kept  several  works  before  him, 
generally  two,  working  simultaneously  on  the  music  of 
one  and  the  scenario  of  the  other. 

All  this  is  very  perplexing,  for  when  we  closely  exam- 
ine his  work,  everything,  poem,  lyrical  declamation, 
melodic  and  harmonic  structure,  and  orchestration,  form 
only  one  homogeneous  whole,  and  so  perfect  is  the  co- 
hesion of  all  these  parts  that  it  seems  as  if  the  whole 
work  must  have  flowed  in  one  stream,  the  music  blend- 
ing naturally  with  the  words  and  necessarily  entailing 
the  instrumental  combinations  which  could  not  be  other 
than  they  are,  so  completely  do  they  realize  the  ideal  of 
perfection.  That  is  a  mistake,  however;  the  labour 
was  much  more  complex,  and  the  growth  much  slower: 
the  first  sketch  of  Die  Meistersinger,  which  was  finished 
in  1867,  dates  back  to  1845  (an  interval  of  twenty-two 
years);  the  first  sketch  of  Parsifal,  finished  in  1882, 
dates  from  1857  (twenty-five  years);  it  was  The  Spell 
t '  I  I     .  /  riday. 


OF    RICHARD    WAGNER  261 

In  the  necessarily  brief  and  dry  Analyses,  which  fol- 
low, of  each  of  the  admirable  works  performed  at  Bay- 
reuth,  I  do  not  pretend  to  catalogue  all  the  Leit-motive. 

For  this  there  are  several  reasons:  First,  I  think  that 
no  one  could  boast  of  not  letting  one  escape  him,  for 
there  are  some  which  consist  of  only  two  notes,  appear- 
ing only  two  or  three  times;  besides,  there  is  nothing  to 
prove  that  Wagner  himself  considered  them  as  such; 
they  are,  perhaps,  simple,  involuntary,  and  purely  genial 
reminiscences,  or  similar  notes  unintentionally  reproduced 
under  similar  circumstances. 

Moreover,  there  already  exist  very  complete  catalogues 
of  this  nature,  perhaps  too  complete ;  there  are  some 
which  are  very  well  compiled,  and  these  I  will  mention. 

But  the  principal  reason  is  that  it  would  have  seemed 
to  me  to  be  going  beyond  the  purpose  of  this  book,  which 
is  simply  a  guide  for  the  uninitiated,  and  I  think  it  pre- 
ferable for  them  to  be  well  acquainted  with  a  limited 
number  of  themes  which  they  will  unhesitatingly  recog- 
nize, than  a  greater  number  which  often  occasion  re- 
grettable confusion.  However,  in  addition  to  the  principal 
themes,  I  shall  never  neglect  to  point  out  those,  which, 
although  secondary,  have  a  real  importance  and  are  fre- 
quently repeated.  Those  who  wish  to  extend  their  re- 
searches farther  and  to  go  deeper  into  a  work,  may 
always  do  so  with  the  aid  of  the  catalogues  of  which  I 
have  already  spoken. 

Applying  here  to  the  Leit-motive  the  same  process 
which  I  have  employed  for  the  characters  in  the  analysis 
of  the  poems,  I  place  at  the  head  of  each  musical  analysis 
a  table  and  synopsis  of  the  various  scenes  in  which  the 
same  mot'iv  appears. 

However,  it  is  necessary  to  remember :  First,  that 
these   tables   only   contain    the   most   important    motive; 


262  THE    MUSIC    DRAMAS 

second,  that  I  mention  only  the  appearances  of  these 
important  motive  that  are  very  clearly  marked;  third, 
that  the  scores  which  are  adapted  to  the  pianoforte 1 
cannot  always  and  everywhere  show  all  the  inotive  con- 
tained in  the  orchestral  score.  Such  as  they  are,  I 
believe  these  tables  will  be  instructive  and  will  facilitate 
research. 

In  them  one  may  instantaneously  judge  of  the  relative 
importance  of  the  motive,  by  the  frequency  of  their  em- 
ployment, the  great  essential  motive  running  through  the 
whole  table,  and  the  motive  which  are  simply  episodical, 
only  figuring  in  two  or  three  neighbouring  columns  ;  in 
them,  too,  may  be  seen  in  what  scenes  a  given  motiv 
has  already  appeared  ;  what  are  the  motive  which  form 
the  framework  of  such  or  such  a  scene,  etc.  By  com- 
paring the  various  tables  relating  to  the  works  of  different 
periods,  we  can  see  to  some  extent  the  method  gradually 
form,  the  employment  of  Leit-motive,  purely  accessory 
in  Tannhduscr,  becoming  already  considerable  in  Lohen- 
grin, and  then  from  Tristan  onwards,  absolutely  sys- 
tematic and  organized. 

In  the  analyses,  as  in  the  tables,  the  themes  will  be 
presented  in  the  order  of  their  first  appearance,  follow- 
ing the  course  of  the  drama,  which  will  allow  of  their 
being  discovered  without  difficulty  by  attentively  follow- 
ing the  score  without  ever  having  to  turn  back.  The 
portions  <>f  the  text  between  [  ]    and  the  examples 

1  The  most  complete  and  faithful  arrangements  of  Tristan,  Die 
Meister singer,  the  Tetralogy,  and  Parsifal  are  those  of  Klind worth, 
whose  work  is  only  for  virtuosi  5  amateurs  will  be  more  at  their 
with  the  sometimes  incorrect  adaptation  of  Kleinmichel.  It  is 
from  the  latter  edition  that  we  have  borrowed,  with  the  authoriza- 
tion of  the  houses  of  Schott  and  Co.  and  Breitkopf  and  Hartel,  the 
majority  of  the  examples  in  this  volume.  MM.  Durand  et  Fils 
have  given  me  a  similar  permission  concerning  the  scores  of  Tann- 
and  Lohengrin. 


OF    RICHARD    WAGNER  263 

printed  in  small  characters  concern  certain  transforma- 
tions of  the  motive  which  seemed  to  me  specially  inter- 
esting and  worthy  of  notice,  as  I  could  not  think  of 
pointing  them  all  out.  These  modifications  only  occur 
in  acts  or  scenes  that  follow  ;  their  precise  place  will 
always  be  mentioned. 

Besides  the  Lelt-motive,  I  shall  also  mention  in  several 
of  the  works  certain  great  phrases  of  an  independent 
character  forming  a  complete  whole  of  themselves,  a 
finished  melody  to  which  it  is  necessary  to  pay  attention  ; 
also  Chorals  and  Songs,  sometimes  foreign  to  the  general 
structure,  at  other  times  indirectly  related  to  it,  several 
of  which  have  received  special  names. 

As  far  as  concerns  the  names,  which  are  the  least 
important  thing,  I  repeat  that  I  shall  always  give  the 
preference  to  those  under  which  the  typical  motive  seem 
to  me  to  be  most  generally  known. 

TANNHAUSER 

Although  Wagner  has  called  Tannhduser  uHandlung" 
(action),  thus  showing  his  intention  to  create  a  new 
dramatico-musical  form,  it  is  quite  certain  that  from 
its  general  form,  with  ensembles,  airs,  duets,  finales,  and 
Overture,  this  work  is  still  musically  connected  with  the 
methods  of  the  old  opera,  and  that  we  often  find  in  it 
the  influence  of  Wagner's  openly-professed  admiration 
for  Weber.  Let  us  even  say  that  it  is  an  Opera  in  the 
full  sense  of  the  word.  Nevertheless  Wagner  is  already 
visible  here  by  a  marked  tendency  to  avoid  the  repetition 
of  words,  by  the  skill  with  which  the  various  parts  are 
bound  together,  by  the  beauty  and  purity  of  the  diction, 
and  especially,  perhaps,  by  the  absence  of  all  idea  of 
concession   to    public    taste.      We   also   find    here   bold 


264 


THE   MUSIC   DRAMAS 


flights  and  melodic   forms  which  arc   very  characteristic 
of  Wagner. 


N  \mi:s 

of  the  principal  Leit-motive 

in  TANNHAUSER 

in  the  order  of  their 

tir-.t  appearance. 

SCENES  : 

5 

ACT 
I. 

- 
- : 

- 

ACT 

II. 

ACT 
III. 

1 

2 

3 

4 

1 

2 

3      4 

5 

1 

2 

3 

4  IS 

The  Venusberg 

• 

9 

• 

© 

• 
• 

• 

• 

• 

• 

• 
• 

• 

tli 

The  Overture  is  a  condensed  summary  of  the  drama. 

In  the  first  place  appears  the  famous  Pilgrims'  Chorus,1 
representing  the  religious  element ;  it  is  first  presented 
with  an  impressive  gravity,  and  then  is  majestically  de- 
\  eloped  in  a  persistent  figure  on  the  violins,  and  it  dies 
away  as  it  departs.  Without  transition,  the  mot'w  of  the 
/  enusberg  transports  us  to  the  abode  of  luxury  and 
unholy  pleasures. 

THE    VENUSBERG 


[In  a  style  which  at  the  same  time  recalls  Weber  when  fan- 
tastic and  Mendelssohn  when  fairy-like,  this  figure  has  the  char- 

1  I  consider  it  superfluous  to  note  here  the  music  of  the  themes 
having  an  independent  character,  which  are  in  the  memory  of 
every  one,  and  arc  in  such  rich  abundance  in  Tannhduser. 


OF    RICHARD   WAGNER 


265 


acter  of  a  Leit-motiv,  for  we  shall  again  find  it  in  the  scene  of 
the  Contest  (Act  II.,  Scene  V.),  each  time  that  Tannhauser  is 
about  to  speak,  thus  disclosing  in  advance  his  state  of  mind  ; 
then  again  in  Act  III.,  at  the  end  of  Scene  IV.,  where  it  an- 
nounces the  coming  of  Venus.] 

A  little  farther  on,  the  Hymn  to  Venus  bursts  out  like 
a  trumpet-call,  first  in  B  major  ;  then,  after  some  beau- 
tiful symphonic  developments  in  the  principal  key  in  E 
major,  a  long  pedal  on  the  dominant  brings  back  the 
Pilgr'uns''  Chorus,  which  is  soon  accompanied  by  the 
strident  passage  on  the  violins,  and  the  Overture  ends 
with  a  great  and  brilliant  finale. 

Act  I. 

At  the  rising  of  the  curtain  we  hear,  as  though  framed 
in  a  Baccanale,  which  reproduces  the  majority  of  the  pro- 
fane motive  of  the  Overture,  a  Dance  of  the  Bacchantes,  a 
Chorus  of  Sirens,  and  then  the  grand  Duet  between  Tann- 
hauser and  Venus,  in  which  appears  three  times,  and  each 
time  a  half-tone  higher  (in  D-flat,  in  D,  and  in  E-flat), 
the  Hymn  to  Venus,  already  heard  in  the  Overture. 
This  scene,  constantly  increasing  in  intensity,  has  a  very 
striking  effect. 

In  the  second  tableau  a  shepherd  plays  upon  his  pipe, 
and  trills  an  air  of  archaic  character,  to  which  is  imme- 
diately linked  the  Pilgrims'  Chorus  in  the  form  of  a 
choral,  while  the  rustic  strains  still  continue  to  sound  in 
capricious  arabesques. 

THE    PILGRIMS'    CHORUS 
Tenors 


266 


THE    MUSIC    DRAMAS 


[It  will  reappear  in  the  orchestra  at  the  beginning  of  the 
impressive  phrase  of  the  Landgrave,  which  appears  in  the  finale 
of  Act  II.,  as  again  at  the  end  of  that  same  act.] 

It  is  only  separated  by  a  hunting-call  from  the  Septet, 
which  itself  is  interrupted  when  Wolfram  pronounces 
the  name  of  Eli%abetb,  which  Tannhauser  repeats  in 
ecstasy. 

ELIZABETH 


Wolfram 


Tannhauser 


[A  similar  arrangement  occurs  at  the  beginning  of  the  finale 
of  Act  III.,  when  the  same  characters  evoke  the  memory  of 
Elizabeth,  whose  funeral   procession   is  passing.] 

Finally  the  Septet  is  resumed  and  ends  with  a  fine 
ensemble. 

Act  II. 

After  a  short  entracte  the  second  act  begins  with  an 
Air  by  Elizabeth,  preceded  by  a  recitative;  here  again 
we  find  a  suggestion  of  Weber  :  then  comes  a  Duet  in 
the  ordinary  form  between  Tannhauser  and  Elizabeth, 
and  a  recitative  between  the  Landgrave  and  his  niece, 
and  then  the  March  with  chorus,  announcing  the 
Singing-Contest.  At  the  beginning  of  this  scene  of  the 
Contest,  Wolfram  sings  of  love  in  a  beautiful  but  cold 
song  which  occasions  a  lively  discussion  between  Tann- 
hauser, Walter,  and  Biterolf ;    here  occurs  the  beautiful 


OF    RICHARD    WAGNER 


267 


Song  of  JVolfram,  a  melody  of  great  breadth  and  warmth, 
and  of  a  noble  and  pure  form,  which  extols  chaste  and 
respectful   love. 

SONG    OF    WOLFRAM 


Wolfram 

'U 

u- : — 

*— 

f 

V 

.  r 

» 

h 

rnJ   -n 

-- j^-j — ' 

--y=  3 

±Y — - — * 
p 

-0 

mfVt 

—    1    1 

It  is  not  in  this  light  that  Tannhauser  regards  it; 
he  disputes  it,  and  each  of  his  replies,  as  we  have 
alreadv  noticed,  is  preceded  by  a  recurrence  of  the 
Venusberg. 


268  THE   MUSIC    DRAMAS 

Biterolf  speaks  in  turn,  and  challenges  him  ;  before 
Tannhauser's  disdainful  reply,  the  same  motiv  appears 
for  the  third  time. 

Finally,  Tannhauser,  at  the  highest  pitch  of  exalta- 
tion, for  the  last  time  sings  his  Hymn  to  Venus?  again  a 
semitone  higher  than  before  (in  E  major),  and  the  act 
ends  with  a  powerful  ensemble,  full  of  movement  and 
Je\  eloped  at  great  length. 


Act  III. 

This  act  is  certainly  the  most  beautiful  one  in  the 
whole  work.  A  very  impressive  entr'acte,  which  it 
would  be  better  to  call  a  Prelude,  precedes  it,  containing, 
in  the  course  of  its  development,  reminiscences  of  the 
Pilgrims*  Chorus  and  the  announcement  of  the  theme  of 
The  Damnation,  which  does  not  appear  until  later. 

The  Pilgrims,  returning  from  Rome,  gratefully  sing 
the  chorus  with  which  the  Overture  has  already  made 
us  acquainted  ;  Elizabeth  breathes  a  tender  Prayer,  and 
slowly  mounts  the  hill,  as  if  in  a  trance,  followed  by 
WOlfram's  glance,  which  is  sadly  accented  by  the  motiv 
of  the  Song  of  Wolfram,  now  confided  to  the  bass-clarinet. 
I  hen  the  latter,  after  a  passage  of  great  breadth,  sings 
the  celebrated  Romance  of  the  Star. 

Immediately,  on  the  entrance  of  Tannhauser,  every- 
thing darkens,  and  the  gloomy  and  terrifying  theme  of 
The  Damnation  is  heard, 

1  These  frequent  repetitions  of  the  Hymn  to  Venus  make  it  the 
principal  and  dominating  motiv  of  the  work,  but  it  never  becomes 
a  Leit-motiv,  for  it  is  only  heard  from  Tannhriuser's  own  lips,  and 
is  always  sung  in  extenso.  It  occurs  also  in  the  Overture,  but, 
during  the  curse  of  tin-  work,  it  never  gives  rise  to  any  symphonic 
allusion,  or  any  insinuation,  as  is  the  mission  of  the  Leit-motive. 


OF    RICHARD    WAGNER 


269 


THE    DAMNATION 
A       A 


and,  after  a  short  dialogue  with  Wolfram,  Tannhauser 
begins  the  touching  story  of  his  journey  to  Rome,  in  the 
course  of  which  The  Damnation  is  again  heard.  This 
story,  one  of  the  most  beautiful  pages  in  the  work, 
is  stamped  with  the  most  heart-rending  despair  and  the 
most  poignant  emotion.  Suddenly  the  mysterious  or- 
chestra, whose  tones  seem  to  spring  from  the  heart  of 
the  mountain,  persistently  repeating  fragments  of  the 
Venusberg  motiv,  announces  the  coming  of  Venus,  ac- 
cented by  an  ingenious  reminiscence  of  the  Chorus  of 
Sirens. 

Tannhauser  is  beginning  to  falter  again  and  allow 
himself  to  be  carried  oft,  when  in  the  distance  are  heard 
the  voices  of  the  Pilgrims,  bearing  Elizabeth's  body. 
Tannhauser  prostrates  himself  upon  her  bier  and  dies. 
He  is  saved  ! 

Then  all  the  voices  united  intone  a  great  hymn  of 
faith  and  hope,  a  marvellous  and  majestic  epilogue, 
which  rises  as  a  sort  of  joyous  and  triumphant  Alleluia, 
reaching  its  splendid  final  development  on  the  first  bars 
of  the  religious  theme  of  the  Overture,  and  leaving  us 
under  the  consoling  influence  of  the  great  act  of  Re- 
demption, which  has  just  been  accomplished  before  our 
eyes. 


270 


THE    MUSIC    DRAMAS 


There  arc  also  in  the  score  certain  forms,  sometimes 
melodic,  sometimes  harmonic,  which  may  be  considered 
as  Leit-motive  of  a  secondary  or  episodical  order,  as,  for 
example,  the  Song  of  the  Sirens  in  Act  I., 


SONG    OF    THE    SIRENS 


fr-j  n 


which  in  the  third   act  accompanies  the  appearance  or 
Venus;  the  second  phrase  of  the  Pilgrims'  Chorus,  which  is 

FRAGMENT    OF    THE    PILGRIMS'    CHORUS 


found  again  in  their  Chant  in  the  form  of  a  choral,  and 
then  at  the  27th  bar  of  the  entr'acte  of  the  third  act 
after  having  already  appeared  in  the  Overture,  and  which 
W  agner  will   again   use    later    in   Parsifal ;    finally,  the 


OF    RICHARD    WAGNER 


271 


beautiful    harmony,1    Pardon,    which    runs    through    the 
whole  story  of  the  journey  to  Rome,  and  which   already 


MOTIV    OF    PARDON 
8 


I 


bs 


m 


e 


iJi 


I 


^ 


a    a 


m 


EfME 


§=£ 


$ 


fcg 


m 


J=^ 


m 


?j^# 


=©3: 


possessed  great  importance  in  the  preceding  entr'acte,  and 
perhaps  others. 

With    regard    to    melodic    reiteration,    the     following 
phrase    by   Venus  in  the   Duet  of  the  first  act,  which 

Elizabeth 


intentionally  recurs  (in  the  key  of  E-flat,)  towards  the 
middle  of  the  entr'acte  preceding  the  second  act ;  also 
the  following, 

Wolfram 


sung  by   Wolfram  in   the  Septet,  shortly  after  the  motiv 
Elizabeth,  reproduced  in  the  orchestra  during  the  address 

1   This  beautiful   harmony,  by    its   impressive   solemnity,  is  very 
similar  in  character  to  certain  motive  in  Parsifal,  notably  Faith- 


2J2 


THE    MUSIC    DRAMAS 


which  the   Landgrave    makes   to   the   singers    after    the 
March,  and,  perhaps,  some  others. 

LOHENGRIN 


NAMES 

of  the  principal  Leit-motive  in 

LOHENGRIN 

in  the  order  of  their  first 

appearance. 

SCENES  : 

9 
u 

ACT 
I. 

p 

z 

-5 

z 

ACT 
II. 

1 
c 

o 

— 
c 

ACT 
III. 

i 

2 

3 

I        2 

I 

3 

4 

5 

■ 

2 

3 

The  Grail 

Elsa 

• 

•• 

;; 

•• 

• 
• 

• 

• 
• 

• 
• 

• 
• 

• 

• 

• 
• 
• 

. . 

• 

• 

• 
• 
• 
• 
• 

• 

•  '  * 

The  Dark  Plots 

The  Doubt 

I  he  Prelude  of  Lohengrin  takes  us  into  the  sacred 
regions  of  Montsalvat.  One  single  moth,  wonderfully 
ilc\  eloped,  bears  the  whole  burden ;  it  symbolizes  The 
Grail. 


THE    GRAIL 


OF    RICHARD    WAGNER 


273 


In  fact,  as  Wagner  has  himself  told  us,  this  introduc- 
tion is  intended  to  describe  the  return  of  the  Holy  Grail 
to  the  mountain  of  the  pious  knights,  in  the  midst  of  a 
band  of  angels. 

This  mysterious  motiv  first  appears  in  the  upper 
regions  of  the  divided  violins,  then  passes  to  the  wood- 
wind, thence  to  the  violas,  violoncellos,  clarinets,  horns, 
and  bassoons,  bursts  forth  on  the  trumpets  and  trombones, 
and  then,  after  this  prodigious  crescendo,  gradually  fades 
away  and  dies  in  the  glow  of  the  muted  violins,  leaving 
behind  a  glimpse  of  supernatural  radiance,  which  is  like 
a  foretaste  of  Parsifal.1 


Act  I. 

The  trumpets  and  the  Herald  proclaim  The  King's  Call. 
After  a  noble  recitative  by  the  King,  broken  by  several 
replies  by  the  chorus,  comes  Frederick's  denunciation  of 
Elsa. 

There   is   a  fresh   call  by  the   Herald,  and  then  Elsa 

1  We  must  not  be  at  all  surprised  thus  to  come  across  germs  in 
Tannhauser  and  Lohengrin  which,  after  being  cultivated,  developed 
many  years  later  into  Parsifal,  the  nuonder  of 'wonders.  It  was  in 
this  way  that  Wagner  formed  his  own  language  ;  he  always  embod- 
ied a  philosophical  thought  either  in  a  melodic  figure  or  in  a  harmonic 
or  rhythmic  form,  the  expression  of  which,  given  identical  cases, 
continues  throughout  all  his  works  ,  and  by  studying  him  many 
analogous  facts  may  be  noticed. 

18 


2"4 


THE   MUSIC    DRAMAS 


enters ;   at  this   moment   in  the  orchestra  is  heard  the 
following  motiv, 


ELSA 


full  of  hope  and  resignation,  which  will  remain  personally 
attached  to  her. 

[It  will  besides  be  almost  immediately  reproduced  in  a 
slightly  modified  form  in  the  story  which  Elsa  relates  of  her 
dream.] 


Elsa 


In  this  same   passage,  which  from  its   first   entrance  is 
placed  as  if  under  the  protection  of  The  Grail,  appears  a 


OF    RICHARD    WAGNER 


275 


new  and  sparkling  theme,  representing  Lohengrin^  clad  in 
his  white  silver  armour  as  she  has  seen  him  in  her  dream, 
and  as  we  ourselves  shall  soon  see  him. 


LOHENGRIN 


[This  motiv,  so  characteristic,  graceful,  bold,  and  chivalrous, 
will  accompany  the  valiant  knight  in  all  heroic  circumstances, 
with  slight  transformations. 

We  shall  find  it  up  to  the  last  page  of  the  work,  to  the 
moment  when  Lohengrin  departs  ;  but  there,  after  having  been 
presented  in  the  triumphal  form  usual  to  it,  it  puts  on  mourn- 
ing, it  borrows  the  minor  key.] 


2-6 


THE    MUSIC    DRAMAS 


It  is  also  during  the  recital  of  Elsas  Dream  that  for  the 
first  time  we  hear  this  other  motiv,  in  some  measure 
complementary  to  that  of  Lohengrin,  whose  Glory  it 
seems  to  proclaim  and  whose  great  deeds  it  celebrates. 


GLORY 


pi 


$m 


m 


£H£3 


ii 


[This   will    be  found   again  in  the  following  scene    on   the 
hcn/s  arrival  and  also  in  the  final  scene  of  the  third  act.] 


f^frfffrfifrte 


f>H-      Jhl        IJIPI 


s 


Frederick  maintaining  his  calumnious  accusation,  the 
King  proposes  The  Judgment  of  God  * 

THE    JUDGMENT    OF    GOD 


1   Notice  the  analogy  with   The  Treaty  in  Der  Ring  des  Nibe> 
lunge  n. 


OF    RICHARD    WAGNER 


277 


the  motiv  of  which  is  soon  followed  by  that  of  Elsa. 
The  Herald  and  his  four  trumpeters  sound  two  successive 
calls.  Elsa  kneels  in  prayer,  accompanied  by  a  chorus 
of  women,  and  her  prayer  ends  with  a  touching  reminis- 
cence of  her  own  motiv.  It  is  then  that  Lohengrin 
appears  in  the  distance  in  a  boat  drawn  by  a  swan  ;  the 
orchestra  sounds  the  motive  of  Lohengrin  and  Glory  t  which 
have  assumed  a  character  of  special  pomp  and  impres- 
siveness.     A  fine  vocal  ensemble  hails  his  arrival. 

Hardly  has  he  landed,  when  he  blesses  and  takes  leave 
of  his  Swan, 


THE    SWAN 


which  is  preceded  by  The  Grail  again.  The  latter  is 
repeated,  when,  after  having  saluted  the  King,  he 
addresses  Elsa  and  informs  her  that  he  cannot  undertake 
her  defence  except  on  the  express  condition  that  she 
shall  never  know  his  name  and  shall  not  even  seek  to 
know  it. 

Here  follows  the  theme,  at  once  strange  and  impres- 
sive, The  Mystery  of  the  Name,  which  forms  a  part  of  the 
fine  entrance  recitative  of  Lohengrin  and  which  he  twice 
repeats  with  insistence,  the  second  time  in  a  higher  kev, 
which  gives  it  more  force. 

The  ensemble  is  heard  again,  and  then  follows  the 
superb  scene  of  the  combat,  the  laws  of  which  are  first 


2j8 


THE    MUSIC    DRAMAS 


THE    MYSTERY    OF    THE    NAME 
Lohengrin 


proclaimed  by  the  Herald,  which  brings  back  The  Judg- 
ment of  God;  next  comes  a  fine  ensemble  passage:  the 
Kings  Prayer  and  Quintet  with  chorus.  The  combat 
begins;  at  each  attack  of  either  adversary  the  theme  of 
Judgment  of  God,  treated  in  canon,  makes  a  fresh 
entree ;  the  niotiv  of  Lohengrin,  however,  takes  its  place 
when  he  is  about  to  strike  the  decisive  blow. 

A  beautiful  enthusiastic  phrase  by  Elsa  hails  his  vic- 
tory ;  this  same  phrase  is  next  taken  up  bv  the  chorus,  but 
with  a  new  development  drawn  from  the  motiv  of  Glory. 
I  his  errand  and  powerful  ensemble,  greatly  extended, 
brilliantly  crowns  the  act  ;  then,  at  the  moment  when 
the  curtain  is  about  to  fall,  the  orchestra  again  sounds 
the  motiv  of  Lohengrin. 


OF    RICHARD    WAGNER 


279 


Act  II. 

The  second  act  will  only  reveal  two  new  typical 
motive,  both  contained  in  the  dark  phrase  which  mutters 
on  the  violoncellos  at  the  beginning  of  the  Prelude. 
First,  Ortrude's  Dark  Plots,  represented  thus  : 

THE    DARK    PLOTS 


[This  moth  will   reappear,  particularly  in  the  course  of  the 
dialogue  between  Ortrude  and  Frederick,  which  opens  the  act. J 


Ortrude 


The  second,  characterizing  The  Doubt  with  which 
Ortrude  wants  to  fill  Elsa's  mind,  the  doubt  which  will 
be  her  ruin,  is  given  in  the  same  dialogue  by  the  violon- 
cellos, ten  bars  after  its  commencement 


28c 


THE    MUSIC    DRAMAS 

THE    DOUBT 


[And  here  it  is  again  as  we  find  it  a  few  pages  farther  on  in 
the  same  long  dialogue,  mingled  with  significant  reminiscences  of 
The  Mystery  of  the  Name.~\ 


Frederick 


Ortrude 


It  is  impossible  to  tell  more  clearly  in  music  that 
Ortrude  intends  perfidiously  to  fill  Elsa's  heart  with 
doubts  regarding  the  purity  and  origin  of  her  knight, 
and  wants  to  inspire  her  with  the  curiosity  to  penetrate 
the  mystery  in  which  he  insists  on  shrouding  his  name. 

When  we  understand  its  inner  meaning,  this  sombre 
and  dark  episode-  constitutes  one  of  the  most  beautiful 
pages  of  the   work.      It   ends  with  a  terrible  phrase  of 


OF    RICHARD    WAGNER  281 

imprecation,  sung  in  octaves  by  the  two  voices,  which 
seals  their  odious  pact  of  revenge. 

Elsa  appears  and  sings  a  sweet  melody  ;  in  the  second 
part  of  her  duet  with  Ortrude  we  recognize  in  the 
orchestra  the  motiv  of  The  Doubt,  immediately  followed 
by  The  Mystery  of  the  Name ;  the  dark  plots  are  being 
accomplished;  the  venom  has  been  instilled  and  will 
perform   its  work. 

The  day  breaks.  Long  trumpet-calls  are  heard  an- 
swering in  turn  on  the  chord  D,  F-sharp,  A  ;  then,  when 
suddenly  the  key  of  C  succeeds  it,  we  hear  The  Kings 
Call.  Immediately  afterwards  the  key  of  D  reappears, 
—  a  daring  proceeding,  with  a  most  striking  effect.  In 
this  scene,  as  in  those  which  follow  :  Elsa  going  to  the 
church,  Ortrude's  scandalous  interference,  and  the  arrival 
of  the  King  and  Lohengrin,  there  is  no  use  made  of  Leit- 
motive  until  Scene  V.,  which  opens  with  The  Kings  Call, 
immediately  followed  by  the  motiv  Lohengrin ;  then,  when 
Frederick  tries  to  attribute  the  victory  of  his  adversary 
to  trickery  or  magic,  notice  a  reappearance  of  The  'Judg- 
ment of  God,  which  he  dares  to  question. 

Finally  there  reappear  in  the  orchestra  in  succession, 
The  Doubt,  The  Mystery  of  the  Name,  and  The  Dark  Plots  ,• 
then,  at  the  moment  when  the  King  is  about  to  cross 
the  threshold  of  the  church  with  Elsa  and  Lohengrin, 
we  again  hear  The  King's  Call,  immediately  followed  by 
The  Mystery  of  the  Na?ne,  and  the  curtain  falls. 

Act  III. 

The  third  act  adds  nothing  to  the  list  of  typical  mo- 
tive, but  all  the  former  ones  are  freely  used  in  it,  though 
not  at  the  beginning. 

First,  as  an  introduction,  we  find  the  splendid  Wed- 
ding March,  as  joyous  as    it   is  pompous,  followed    from 


282  THE   MUSIC    DRAMAS 

the  first  rising  of  the  curtain  by  a  charming  Chorus,  a 
graceful  epithalamium ;  then  comes  the  Duet  between 
Elsa  and  Lohengrin  ;  in  this,  shortly  after  a  fine  phrase 
bv  Lohengrin  and  just  as  Elsa  manifests  her  culpable 
curiosity,  The  Mystery  of  the  Name  is  twice  repeated  ; 
the  motiv  of  The  Doubt  comes  into  play,  always  more 
and  more  insistent  ;  then  a  short  allusion  to  the  Swan, 
which  Elsa  thinks  she  sees,  or  pretends  she  thinks  so  ; 
finally,  when  she  has  put  the  fatal  question,  The  Mystery 
of  the  Name  furiously  breaks  out ;  when  Lohengrin  has 
just  killed  Frederick  The  Doubt  still  exists;  the  body  is 
carried  out  to  the  strains  of  The  Judgment  of  God ;  Lo- 
hengrin announces  to  Elsa  that  he  is  going  to  declare 
who  he  is  before  everybody,  and  again  sounds  The 
Mystery  of  the  Name,  this  time  followed  by  The  Grail! 
Is  this  sufficiently  explicit  ? 

And  when,  in  the  last  tableau,  Elsa  appears  before  the 
King,  the  Nobles,  and  the  Warriors,  it  is  again  by  The 
Mystery  of  the  Name,  which  she  has  violated,  that  she 
is  announced  ;  this  time  it  is  rendered  gloomy,  and  is 
directly  joined  to  the  fatal  Doubt ;  the  motiv  of  Elsa  is 
the  third  to  appear  and  ends  in  the  minor;  it  seems 
to  be  as  humiliated  as  herself.  When  the  remains  of 
Frederick  are  brought  before  the  King,  The  Judgment  of 
God  reminds  us  that  it  is  God  who  has  struck  him  ;  when 
Lohengrin,  in  a  most  touching  recital,  relates  the  splen- 
dours of  Montsalvat,  The  Grail  reveals  its  mysteries; 
and  finally,  when  he  pronounces  his  own  name,  Lohen- 
grin is  again  proclaimed  by  the  most  startling  trumpet 
notes,  and  immediately  the  orchestra  sobers  down. 

The  rest  is  short.  Lohengrin  is  about  to  depart ; 
notwithstanding  the  supplications  of  Elsa,  the  King,  and 
the  Lords,  he  is  inflexible  :  it  must  be.  The  Sivan 
reappears,  with  its  sweet  and  calm  harmony;    the  Knight 


OF    RICHARD    WAGNER 


283 


bids  a  tender  farewell  to  Elsa,  gives  her  his  horn,  his 
swore,  and  his  ring,  kisses  her  brow,  and  sets  foot  in 
the  boat  :  here  there  are  no  Leit-motive.  But  in  the 
last  pages,  after  Ortrude's  odious  malediction,  when  the 
white  dove  comes  to  hover  above  the  head  of  the  hero, 
we  hear,  more  solemnly  than  ever,  the  theme  of  The 
Grail,  then  also  with  great  breadth  that  of  Lohengrin 
united  with  Glory;  Lohengrin  having  disappeared,  the 
same  theme  occurs  in  the  minor;  and,  finally,  the  work 
ends,  as  it  began,  with  the  sacred  harmony  of  The  Grail. 


TRISTAN    UND   ISOLDE 

The  Prelude  to  the    first   act   of  Tristan  una1  Isolde   is 

almost   built    up    of    the    seven    most    important    motive, 

making  us  feel  from  the  first  the    predominance   of  the 

chromatic  manner  which  will  prevail  through  the  greater 

part  of  this  work,  and  which  motive  are    thus   presented 

from  the  very  beginning.      First  comes  The  Confession  of 

Love. 

'  CONFESSION    OF    LOVE 

V? 


[which  will  be   found  again  in  Scene  V.  (at  the  moment  when 
Isolde  drinks  to  Tristan),  under  the  following  form  :] 

Isolde 


284 


THE    MUSIC    DRAMAS 


TRISTAN    UND    ISOLDE 


N  VMES 
of  llie  principal  Lett-motive  in 

TRISTAN  UND  ISOLDE 

in  the  order  of  their  first 

appearance. 

SCENES  : 

■0 

ACT 

I. 

c 

c 
c 

ACT 
II. 

— 

ACT 
III. 

1 

2 

3 

4    5 

123 

1     2 

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9 

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0 

0 

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0 

0 

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0 
0 

0 

0 
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0 

0 
0 

0 
0 
0 

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0 

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t 
0 

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0 
0 

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OF    RICHARD    WAGNER 


285 


but  which  in  the   Prelude   is  constantly  followed  by  this 
other  motiv,  Desire^  which  completes  its  harmonic  sense 


DESIRE 


and  gives  us  the  impression  of  a  sad  and  painful  note  of 
interrogation,  four  times  repeated  with  long  and  affecting 
rests. 

[Frequent  employment  of  this  motiv  occurs  in  the  course  of  this 
work  under  the  most  varied  forms.] 

espressivo 


Immediately  afterwards  appears  a  new  theme  eloquently 
expressing  that  the  mutual  passion  of  Tristan  and  Isolde 
has  had  as  its  first  cause  and  origin  the  meeting  of  their 
eyes ;   this  is  The  Glance. 


THE    GLANCE 


1  Observe  a  certain  analogy  with  the  motiv  of  Fate  in  Der  Ring 
des  Nibelungen. 


286 


THE    MUSIC    DRAMAS 


[Moreover,  this  theme  of  The  Glance  will  often  be  met  with, 
more  or  less  modified,  in  the  course  of  the  work  ;  I  have  given 
below  an  interesting  form  of  it  which  is  found  at  the  133rd 
bar  of  Scene  III.  (Kleinmichel's  edition,  p.  32,  2nd  bar).] 

Isolde 


OF    RICHARD    WAGNER 


287 


Continuing  the  analysis  of  the  Prelude,  in  which  this 
mot'iv  of  The  Glance  is  the  subject  of  numerous  and  im- 
portant developments,  so  that  at  certain  times  it  even 
assumes  the  preponderance,  we  shall  meet  in  the  space 
of  four  bars  with  two  very  expressive  phrases,  character- 
izing the  two  philtres  of  love  and  of  death,  the  substitution 
of  which  is,  as  it  were,  the  nucleus  of  the  action  :  The 
Love  Philtre  and  The  Death  Potion,  the  first  full  of  poetry 


iE    LOVE    PHILTRE 


THE    DEATH    POTION 


and  passion,  the  second  forming  a  sinister  and  gloomy 
contrast,  which  the  instrumentation  still  further  empha- 
sizes by  confiding  it  sometimes  to  the  big  brass  and  some- 
times to  the  bass-clarinet  and  oboes. 

[The  latter  will  again  appear  at  the  end  of  Scene  III.  at 
the  moment  when  Brangane  is  looking  for  the  flasks  in  the 
casket.] 


2  88 


THE    MUSIC    DRAMAS 

Isolde 


$m 

~ ''     ''     - 

*? 

1 

^^35 

— 4r\ ' 

J     « *  • 

1  ■    3    X 

■J- 

)r&. 

pp . 

P 

^5-  • 

Now  comes  the  motiv  which  may  be  considered  as 
derived  from  that  of  The  Glance,  to  which  is  attached  the 
idea  of  this  precious  casket  of  relief,  The  Magic  Casket  : 


THE    MAGIC    CASKET 
dolce 


[a  motiv  which  will  necessarily  find  its  use  when  recourse  is  had 
to  the  casket  (in  Scene  HI.),  or  when  any  allusion  is  made 
to  it]. 

Brangane 


I  Inn,  following  a  superb  crescendo  which  is  con- 
structed principally  of  the  motiv  of  The  Glance,  is  intro- 
duced  the  theme  of  The  Deliverance  by  Death,  the  last 
of   those   introduced  to   us   in   the  Prelude,  which  finally 


OF    RICHARD    WAGNER 


289 


ends  with  new  combinations  of  the  Leit-motive  already 
mentioned. 

THE    DELIVERANCE    BY    DEATH 


[On  the  subject  of  the  motiv  of  The  Deliverance,  let  us 
observe  that  it  often  undergoes  radical  changes ;  thus,  when  we 
find  it  at  the  beginning  of  Act  III.,  Scene  II.,  it  has  assumed  the 
following  form  :] 


Tristan 


Act  I. 

Scene  I.  —  The  song  of  the  young  sailor  perched  on 
the  mast  is  not  in  itself  a  Leit-motiv;  but  his  third 
phrase,   The  Sea,  does  constitute  one,  which  will  be  fre- 


A  young  sailor 


THE    SEA 


quently  employed  and  will  undergo  the  most  curious 
transformations.  Here,  almost  at  the  beginning  of  Scene 
I.,  is    Isolde   in    disgust   at    having    to   make    this  voyage 

19 


290 


THE    MUSIC    DRAMAS 


Isolde 


across  The  Sea,  the  object  of  which  is  not  pleasing  to 
her ;  some  pages  further  on  (when  the  key  of  F  arrives), 
it  represents  the  phlegm  and  indifference  of  the  sailors 
during  a  long  and  uneventful  passage;  it  is  the  calm  of 
The  Sea : 


%j   r    r"Tl 


m 


i 


an 


ft  ma 


.  marcato 


*d.,    tM 


WZ 


n 


w 


n 


[At  Scene  IV.  they  are  joyfully  approaching  land,  and  it  is  still 
the  motiv  of  The  Sea  which  is  changed   to  tell   us  of  it :    else- 


Kurwenal 


Try- 

dim. 

where   we  meet   with   it   under  many  other   forms,  which  we 
cannot  quote  here] 

1  he  motiv  of  Anger  is  expressive  and  easily  recogniz- 
able. 


OF    RICHARD    WAGNER 

ANGER 


291 


Scene  II.  — So  also  with  that  which  so  gloomily  pre- 
dicts The  Death  of  Tristan  and  the  sorrows  of  Isolde. 


Isolde 


DEATH 


[If  it  is  not  always  repeated  in  its  entirety,  it  is  frequently 
represented  by  one  half  of  it  or  the  other,  the  first  more  par- 
ticularly calling  up  the  idea  of  Tristan,  the  second  that  of 
Isolde,  and  numerous  allusions  to  them  occur  in  the  course  of 
the  work.] 


292  THE    MUSIC    DRAMAS 

After  various  returns  (occasioned  by  what  passes  on 
the  Stage),  of  several  important  themes,  notably  The 
Glance,  Desire,  The  Sea,  under  the  calm  form  which  I 
pointed  out  in  the  third  example,  The  Love  Philtre,  etc., 
the  scene  ends  by  Kurwenal's  mocking  song  of  a  popu- 
lar character,  the  refrain  of  which,  a  joyous  salutation, 
Glory  to  Tristan,  is  taken   up  as  a  chorus  by  the  sailors, 


Kurwenal 


GLORY    TO    TRISTAN 


but    a    third    higher,    by    an    amusing     caprice    of   the 
composer. 

SCENE  III. — The  third  scene  only  introduces  us  to 
one  fresh  motiv  of  any  great  importance,  the  one  which 
shows  us  the  wounded  Tristan  when  he  was  cared  for 
and  saved  by  Isolde,  Tristan   II  ounded. 


TRISTAN    WOUNDED 


Isolde 


$ 


^F= 


j^a 


M 


==S 


^m 


y,'fu  ,rri 


OF    RICHARD    WAGNER 


293 


This  motiv,  of  which  considerable  use  will  be  made  in 
the  remainder  of  the  drama,  as  a  general  thing  suffers 
very  few  modifications  in  its  melodic  form,  but  the  fig- 
ures of  accompaniment  which  appear  with  it  in  different 
circumstances  are  varied  with  admirable  and  inexhausti- 
ble fertility  of  invention.      Here  are  some  examples  : 


The  remainder  of  the  scene  is  woven  together  of 
motive  we  already  know,  which  appear  practically  in  the 
following  order:  Glory  to  Tristan,  Desire,  The  Glance, 
Anger,  The  Magic  Casket,  The  Deliverance,  The  Love 
Philtre,  and  The  Death  Potion,  while  Isolde  is  relating 
Tristan's  treason  to  Branganc,  and  reveals  her  sinister 
designs. 

Scene  IV.  —  After  an  appearance  of  the  motiv  of 
The  Sea  in  its  gay  form,  those  of  Tristan  Wounded, 
Death,  Desire,  The  Death  Potion,  and,  finally,  Anger 
successively  reappear.  This  scene  offers  no  new  Leit- 
motive. 


294 


THE    MUSIC    DRAMAS 


S<  ink  V. —  The    first   chords   of  Scene  V.  show    us 
Tristan  the  Hero  coming  respectfully  to  salute  his  queen. 

Lento  TRISTAN    THE    HERO 


v 

Then,  while  the  supreme  action  of  the  drama,  the 
substitution  of  the  philtre,  is  taking  place,  all  the  motive 
of  the  first  act  pass  in  procession,  ending  with  the  accla- 
mations of  the  people,  and  a  new  form  of  The  Se6\ 
motiv. 

Act  II. 

Scene  I.  —  Almost  the  whole  of  the  first  scene  is  a 
development  of  the  following  new  motiv,  which  is  of 
considerable  importance,  and  one  of  those  which  Wag- 
ner has  taken  pleasure  in  presenting  under  the  most 
varied  and  unexpected  aspects,  after  having  given  it  its 
most  simple  form  at  the  beginning  of  the  Prelude. 

DAY 

Allegro  molto 


OF    RICHARD    WAGNER 


295 


This  is   Day.,  the  enemy  of  the  loves  of  Tristan  and 

Isolde. 

[This  is  the  way  we  shall  find  it  in  Scene  11.  in  the  ensemble 
in  A-flat  in  3-time  : 

Isolde  Tristan 


and  earlier  in  the  same  Duet,  by  diminution 

Isolde 


JL  («    p     — +■        A   *]7 

f           ^ 

I jrj 1 . 1 

1-3  J 1 1 

Here  is   another  form,  which    appears   very   frequently    in   the 
same  piece : 
Isolde 


jjyppiJP 


and,  finally,  here  it  is  again,  this  time  by  augmentation,  as  it  is 
presented  by  Brangane  protecting  the  loves  of  Tristan  and 
Isolde  : 


296 


THE    MUSIC    DRAMAS 


[One  thing  to  be  observed  is  that  the  interval  between  the  first 
two  notes  of  this  motiv  is  sometimes  a  fourth  and  sometimes  a 
fifth  ;  in  the  first  case  it  has  a  very  marked  resemblance  to  the 
G  v  to  Tristan,  of"  which,  strictly  speaking,  it  is  only  a  trans- 
position in  the  minor. 

It  also  undergoes  many  other  transformations,  all  of  which  1 
cannot  note  here,  but  which  will  afford  pleasure  to  those  who 
search  fur  them  in  the  score.] 


OF    RICHARD    WAGNER 


297 


The  moth  of  Impatience  is  sketched  at  the  ninth  bar 
of  the  Prelude,  but  it  does  not  assume  its  definite  form 
till  the  twenty-first  bar. 


IMPATIENCE 


[Its  principal  employment  will  occur  when  Isolde,  after 
having  given  Tristan  the  appointed  signal,  is  anxiously  awaiting 
him.] 

But  a  few  bars  farther,  this  motiv,  very  slightly  modi- 
fied, happily  combines  with  that  of  Ardour  (also  called 
"  Love's  Call "),  which  is  of  considerable  importance 
throughout  this  act ; 

ARDOUR 


0  ■   "  -r 


here  it  is  under  another  form, 


298  THE    MUSIC    DRAMAS 

Brangane  Isolde 


pip 


1j— 1 c  r  'P't.i 


;>*..,  I'     ['r;aiifipJjgE= 


which  completely  changes  its  character.  In  general  it 
does  not  undergo  any  transformations  as  is  the  case  with 
the  following,  Passionate  Transport, 

PASSIONATE    TRANSPORT 


^^ 


i 


h± 


p™p 


m 


s 


[which,   however,    we  shall   find   again    augmented   and    partly 
syncopated  in   Scene   II.,   a   little    before    The    Invocation    to 

Night  : 


It  will  again  appear  at  the  end   of  the  work  to  serve  as  an 
accompaniment  to  Isolde's  last  words]. 

I  he  Song  of  Love,  which  forms  the  orchestral  web  of 
the  entire  portion  of  this  scene  preceding  the  extinction 
of  the  torch,  and  the  entirely  Italian  character  of  which 
never  tails  to  surprise  those  who  have  not  yet  noticed 
how  frequently  this   Italian  character  occurs  in  Wagner. 


OF    RICHARD    WAGNER 

Isolde  SONG    OF    LOVE 


299 


m 


£21F^ 


£550ai 


ggg 


>l&ipu 


i^j-rf? 


# 


^ 


£ 


r 


f 


This   very    frequently  appears    in  the    remainder  of  the 
second   act. 

Among  the  themes  already  known  to  us,  those  which 
especially  contribute  to  the  musical  structure  of  this  first 
scene  are  :  Desire,  The  Death  Potion,  Death,  and  Impatience, 
and  they  appear  almost  in  the  above-mentioned  order. 

Scene  II. — This  scene  is  only  a  long  love-duet 
(Brangane,  indeed,  speaks  a  few  words,  but  she  is  invisible 
on  the  tower) ;  during  the  first  ensemble  the  symphonic 
part  presents  the  most  beautiful  interweavings  of  the 
motive  of  Passionate  Transport  and  Ardour;  farther  on 
reappears  the  theme  of  Day,  and  those  of  Glory  to 
Tristan,  the  Song  of  Love,  and  The  Death  Potion  ;  then 
appears,  first  in  this  provisional  form,  and  almost  directly 
afterwards  in  its  definitive  form,  the  Invocation  to  Night, 
a  broad  and  suave  melody, 

Tristan        INVOCATION    TO    NIGHT 


3oo  THE    MUSIC    DRAMAS 


f^'l-  [? 


which  gives  rise  to  a  second  and  important  ensemble  of 
striking  beauty. 


OF    RICHARD    WAGNER 


301 


In  the  course  of  this  same  ensemble,  which  is  constantly 
sustained  by  a  syncopated  rhythm  full  of  life  and  pas- 
sion, in  which  a  few  notes  of  the  Day  appear,  the  phrase 
undergoes  numerous  and  great  modifications  ;  in  particu- 
lar, it  assumes  this  entirely  novel  aspect,  resulting  from 
the  introduction  of  passing  notes,  with  a  structure  quite 
alien  to  its  harmonic  form,  which  is  sometimes  called 
"  Night  the  Revealer." 

Lento  moderato 
Isolde 
p   tranquillo 


[Now,  it  should  be  noticed  that  when  this  phrase  with  its 
passing  notes,  but  with  a  contrary  inverted  movement,  is  heard 
in  the  last  act,  its  signification  will  be  quite  different  and  will 
convey  the  idea  of  Suspicion.'] 


SUSPICION 


302 


THE    MUSIC    DRAMAS 


Towards  the  end  appears  the  motiv  of  Death  the  Liber- 
ator^ with  its  strange  dissonances, 


DEATH    THE    LIBERATOR 


Isolde 


^vw^j^y^ 


mtlenT. 


f  which  will  often  reappear  in  the  course  of  the  drama,  some- 
time in  the  voices,  sometimes  in  the  orchestra,  rarely  modified 
in  Its  melodic  contour  but  frequently  with  harmonic,  or  rhythmic, 
variants]. 


OF    RICHARD    WAGNER 


3°3 


yfg  r* 


Immediately  on  the  close  of  this  ensemble,  Brangane 
from  the  summit  of  the  tower  sings  the  motiv  of  Day 
in  the  form  given  on  p.  296  ;  then  comes  this  delightful 
motiv, 

FELICITY 
sempre  motto  tranq. 


J  tfOtf    ^  U 


which   possesses  an  exquisite   charm   and  an  ideal  sweet- 
ness, so  well  expressing  calm  happiness  and  Felicity, 


3°4 


THE    MUSIC    DRAMAS 


[which  will  never  he  reproduced  in  its  integrity  ;  but,  besides 
partial  repetitions,  numerous  allusions  will  be  made  to  it,  and  it 
will  have  frequent  transformations  ;  I  will  quote  here  one  of  its 
most  curious  forms  in  5-time  and  in  the  bass  (Act  III., 
Scene  II.)]- 
Tristan 


Now  comes  the  superb  Song  of  Death   under  the  two 
aspects  which  it  assumes  in  this  scene, 


Tristan 


SONG    OF    DEATH 


OF    RICHARD    WAGNER 


3°5 


Tristan 


m 


¥ 


<&z 


5gp 


'n'SJl^T^ 


where  it  furnishes  a  third  and  marvellous  ensemble. 

[In  the  final  scene  of  the  drama,  slightly  modified,  it  will 
serve  as  the  basis  of  Isolde's  song,  until  the  moment  when  the 
latter,  growing  more  and  more  excited,  finds  her  support  in  the 
rnotiv  of  Passionate  Transport. ~\ 

Isolde 

4. 


After  several    repetitions  of  Felicity,  Death   the  Libera- 
tor, the  Death  Potion   and    Day,  the   scene   ends  with   the 

sudden  arrival  of  King  Mark. 

20 


3°6 


THE    MUSIC    DRAMAS 


Scene  III.  —  Immediately  the  motive  of  Impatience, 
the  Song  of  Death,  and  Day  reappear,  and  then  two  other 
themes,  which  are  not  used  anywhere  but  in  this  scene 
of  the  act ;  first,  the  following,  very  prominent  in  the 
orchestra,  accents  the  deep  grief  which  King  Mark  feels 
at  the  evidence  of  Tristan's  treachery :  it  is  Mark's 
Grief. 

MARK'S    GRIEF 

Melot 


(The  dominant  feeling  in  the  good  King  Mark's  mind 
is  not  anger,  nor  jealousy,  nor  the  desire  for  vengeance, 
nor  hatred  :    it   is  a  sharp  affliction,   a   profound   grief: 


OF   RICHARD    WAGNER 


3°7 


how  well  it  is  expressed  !).  Then,  shortly  afterwards, 
comes  another  which  expresses  his  Consternation,  and, 
perhaps,  Tristan's  also  : 


CONSTERNATION 


Lento  moderato,  come  primo 


The  end  of  this  scene  is  largely  built  up  of  these  two 
new  motive,  with  frequent  reminiscences  of  Anger,  The 
Confession  of  Love,  Desire,  Felicity,  Death  the  Liberator, 
and  the  Invocation  to  Night. 

Act  III. 

Scene  I.  —  The  Prelude  immediately  takes  us  to 
Tristan's  estate,  by  means  of  a  motiv,  admirably  express- 
ing its  Solitude,  which  will  only  be  used  at  the  opening 
of  this  last  act,  but  whose  first  notes  are  not  without  a 
certain  likeness  to  the  motiv  already  known  as  Desire. 

Analyzing  it  in  detail,  we  find  in  these  first  notes  the 
feeling  of  despair  caused  by  fatality,  to  which  succeeds, 
in  the  ascent  in  thirds  and  augmented  fourths,  the  image 
of  solitude,  and  of  the  infinity  of  the  ocean  ;  a  new 
figure  expresses  the  condition  of  distress  and  isolation  in 
which  we  find  Tristan  (see  p.  312);  after  a  triple 
organ-point,  the  same  figures  recur,  followed  this  time 
(in  f')  b.V  the  last  notes  of  Death,  then  the  ascent  in 
thirds  comes  in  a  third  time  and  forms  the  connection 
with  the  first  scene. 


3o8 


THE   MUSIC    DRAMAS 


The  whole  of  this   Prelude,  which  is  profoundly  mel- 
ancholy, prepares  the  mind  for  the  climax  of  the  drama. 


SOLITUDE 


Lento  moderato 


Just  as  the  curtain  rises,  behind  the  scenes  is  heard  an 
affecting  solo  on  the  cor  anglais,  without  any  accompani- 
ment, which  is  very  expressive  and  is  most  curiously 
developed. 

SADNESS 


OF    RICHARD    WAGNER 


3°9 


[At  the  beginning  of  the  first  act,  a  young  sailor  was  singing 
on  the  mast  of  the  ship,  and  a  fragment  of  his  song  furnished 
the  moth  of  The  Sea  ;  here,  it  is  a  shepherd  who  plays  on  his 
pipe  a  sad  and  plaintive  air,  which  will  serve  in  the  orchestra  as 
an  accompaniment  to  a  good  part  of  Tristan's  delirious  talk, 
after  which  the  shepherd  will  play  it  a  second  time.] 

This  next  mothv  is  peculiar  to  the  character  of  Kur- 
wenal^  whose  joy  it  picturesquely  describes  when  Tris- 
tan first  opens  his  eyes,  as  it  also  does  later  when  he 
thinks  that  Isolde  can  effectually  cure  him. 


Kurwenal 


KURWENAL'S    JOY 


[It  will  appear  again  at  the  moment  Kurwenal  dashes  at 
the  followers  of  King  Mark  to  meet  his  death  at  the  end  of  the 
third  scene.] 

The  calm  and  peaceful  motiv  of  Kar'eol,  forming  a 
smiling  contrast  to  the  agony  of  the  action,  only  appears 
on  two  occasions  in  the  orchestra,  and  these  rather  close 
together,  to  recall  to  Tristan's  memory  the  happy  period 
of  his  youth. 

Kurwenal 


KAREOL 


3io 


THE    MUSIC    DRAMAS 


♦ 


nmilvoppo  CVeSC' 


wm 


J  ,P'..'J'J 


«=* 


t  *+' 


W^* 


im 


^ig 


m 


^p 


^*E^p 


After  this,  all  the  principal  Leit-motive  appear  in  such  a 
tangle  that  their  enumeration  would  be  tedious  ;  besides, 
they  have  been  met  with  often  enough  to  render  them 
easily  recognizable  to  the  eye  or  ear.  Among  the  most 
frequent,  however,  we  may  call  attention  to  Glory  to 
Tristan,  Solitude,  and  then,  after  a  return  of  Kareol,  the 
Invocation  to  Night,  and  Death  the  Liberator. 

Only  one  new  motiv  remains  to  be  mentioned;  this 
also  depicts  Joy,  but  it  is  not  like  the  other  Joy,  specially 
attached  to  one  single  character  ;  it  relates  to  the  joy  of 
Tristan,  as  well  as  that  of  Kurwenal  :  when  Tristan,  in 
his  fever,  thinks  he  sees  Isolde  coming ;  and  Kurwenal, 
when  he  at  last  can  avenge  his  master  by  mortally 
wounding  the  traitor,  Melot. 


Tristan 


JOY 


OF    RICHARD    WAGNER 


311 


Scenes  II.  and  III.  do  not  supply  any  new  motive;  the 
old  ones  of  which  they  are  composed  appear  in  the  fol- 
lowing order  : 

Scene  II.  —  Invocation  to  Night,  The  Song  of  Love, 
Deliverance,  Felicity,  Ardour,  Death,  Desire,  Confession  of 
Love,  The  Glance,  Death  the  Liberator,  Song  of  Death, 
Tristan  Wounded,  Death  Potion,  etc. 

SCENE  III.  —  foy,  Kar'eol,  Song  of  Death,  Confession  of 
Love,  Desire,  Passionate  Transport,  etc.,  and  the  curtain 
falls  upon  a  last  transformation  of  Desire. 


Besides  these  principal  themes,  there  are  several  of 
secondary  importance,  and  yet  of  rather  frequent  occur- 
rence, such  as  the  ?notiv  of  Exaltation,  appearing  in  the 
first  act, 


3I2 


THE    MUSIC   DRAMAS 


and  again  in  Act  II.  at  the  moment  of  Tristan's  arrival. 
Several  times  it  is  used  in  the  development  of  the  motiv 
Anger. 

In  the  Prelude  of  the  third  act  only,  we  meet  with  the 
very  expressive   Tristan's  Distress. 

TRISTAN'S    DISTRESS 


The  Annihilation  only  appears  twice,  in  two  distinct 
forms  :   in  Scene  I.  after  the  second  appearance  of  Kar'eol, 


ANNIHILATION 
Tristan      Adagio 


OF    RICHARD    WAGNER  313 

and    quite    at   the   end,   almost   at    Isolde's    last    words 


Isolde 


The   following  also  occurs   in   Scene    I.   coming  very 
shortly   after  the  above  : 


UNALTERABLE    LOVE 


Tristan 


t-f-  . 

cJ 

-      T' 

\'-i 

"■■■■■   a 

0 

ijo 

Another,  at  Scene  II.,   preceding   by  several   pages  a 
charming  reminiscence  of    Felicity  : 


3H 


THE    MUSIC    DRAMAS 

MALEDICTION    OF    THE    LOVE    PHILTRE 

Tristan 


Finally,    the    following,    immediately    after    Tristan's 
death  : 

COMPANIONSHIP    IN    DEATH 


Many  others  might  certainly  be  mentioned,  but  these 
seem  to  me  sufficient  for  the  comprehension  of  the  work  ; 
besides,  once  having  entered  on  this  path,  it  is  not  easy 
to  know  exactly  where  to  stop,  and  one  would  finally 
end  by  finding  Leit-motive  where  there  only  exist  lyrical 
declamation  and  characteristic  forms  of  Wagner's  musi- 
cal language.  The  essential  matter  is  that  the  reader 
should  know  that  there  remain  many  motive  for  him  to 
discover,  which  are  not  the  less  interesting  because  they 
arc  of  secondary   importance. 


OF   RICHARD    WAGNER 


3*5 


DIE    MEISTERSINGER    VON    NURNBERG 


NAMES 
of  the 
principal  Lett-motive  in 
DIE    MEISTER- 
SINGER 

in  the  order  of  their 
first  appearance. 

scenes  : 

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Quarrelsome  Beckmesser. 
Patronal  motiv  oi  Nurem- 

Evi 

Peaceofthe  Summer  Night 

Sachs's    Profound     Emo- 

Story  of  the  Dream  ( Prize 

i6 


THE    MUSIC    DRAMAS 


DIE    MEISTERSINGER 

Overture 

Although  the  Overture  to  Die  Meistersinger  consti- 
tutes a  superb  portal  to  the  work  and  a  symphonic  piece 
apparently  independent  and  complete  in  itself,  it  can  only 
be  comprehended  and  admired  as  it  deserves  by  those 
who  have  already  gained  a  thorough  knowledge  of  the 
entire  work,  that  is  to  say  on  a  second  reading,  or  hearing. 
It  is  built  upon  five  themes  selected  from  the  most  im- 
portant ones  of  the  work,  showing  the  dramatic  material 
reduced  to  its  greatest  simplicity.  Two  of  these  themej 
exhibit  the  learned  and  pretentious  Corporation  of  the 
Meistersinger;  and  the  three  others  depict  the  various 
phases  of  the  loves  of  Eva  and  the  knight  Walter  von 
Stolzing. 

First  come  heavy  and  pompous  chords,  with  a  move- 
ment  at  once  noble  and  pedantic,  affecting  a  march 
ih\  thm, 

THE    MEISTERSINGER 


Moderate,  sempre  largamente  e  pesante 


jf   pigoroso  r    lenuto 


^fr^tW 


r  t 


^  * 


\  i\  idly  portraying  the  character  of  the  Meistersinger,  men 
of  profound  convictions  and  resolute  principles,  in  the 
main  worthy  of  respect,  but  often  carrying  their  zeal 
to  tlu-  verge  of  absurdity;  however,  they  are  gay  and 
lively. 


OF    RICHARD    WAGNER 


3*7 


Immediately  is  heard  as  a  gentle  contrast  Waking  Love, 
light,  discreet,  and  always  fender:  the  blossoming  of 
unconscious  love  : 


WAKING    LOVE 


Molto  tranquillo 


[We  shall  find  this  motiv  constantly  occurring  throughout  the 
work,  sometimes  only  indicated  by  a  few  initial  notes.] 

This  episode  is   short :    fourteen   bars  ;    soon  appears  a 
second   characteristic  motiv   of  the   Meistersinger. 
This  is  The  Banner  : 


THE    BANNER 


This  is  less  bourgeois,  and  I  will  even  say  more  her- 
aldic than  the  motiv  of  The  Meister singer,  properly  so- 
called  ;  you  see  the  banner  floating  on  the  breeze,  the 
beautiful  banner  which  depicts  King  David  playing 
the  harp,  the  visible  and  glorious  sign  of  the  dignity  of 
the  Corporation,  the  emblem  of  its  science,  of  its  fidelity 
to  rules,  and  of  its  pride. 


3'8 


THE    MUSIC    DRAMAS 


[Just  as  a  banner  is  carried  at  the  head  of  any  self  respecting 
society,  or  guild,  when  it  takes  part  in  any  fete,  or  public 
rejoicing,  we  shall  see  the  moth  of  The  Banner  escorting  that 
of  The  Meistersinger  on  all  important  occasions.] 

This  motiv  is  greatly  extended,  being  continued  by 
beautiful  developments  which  exhibit  under  new  aspects 
the  motiv  of  The  Meister singer  ^  which  terminates  with  a 
majestic  cadence.  After  a  short  episode  of  eight  bars 
(which  has  been  called  "  Love's  Question  "),  there  appears 
a  new  theme  of  capital  importance,  Love  Confessed, 

LOVE    CONFESSED 


[which  will  run  through  the  whole  work,  and  will  find  its  high- 
est expression  and  its  final  form  in  the  last  act,  in  the  song  for 
the  Mastership,  and  again  when  the  people  join  in  the  triumph 
of  Waher  and  his  love]. 

A  last  motiv,  this  time  connected  solely  with  the 
character  of  Walter,  also  forms  part  of  the  fabric  of 
tin-  Overture.      It  is  called  Impatient  Ardour. 


IMPATIENT    ARDOUR 


OF    RICHARD    WAGNER 


3*9 


[We  shall  see  it  specially  haunting  the  worthy  Sachs,  notably 
towards  the  end  of  Act  II.  Scene  III.] 


Sachs 


Molto  sostenuto 


The  Overture  is  next  developed  by  alternations  of 
these  various  motive  till  the  moment  when  three  of  them 
The  Meister singer,  The  Banner,  and  Love  Confessed,  are 
simultaneously  combined  in  a  most  ingenious  way,  and 
make  us  feel  what  will  be  the  d'enoument  of  the  drama 
itself:  the  alliance  and  fusion  of  the  erudite  but  slavish 
Art  of  the  old  Masters  with  a  new  and  more  spontaneous 
Art,  that  of  Walter,  which  is  inspired  by  love. 

The  Overture,  then,  is  entirely  symbolic;  it  summar- 
izes the  action,  whilst  neglecting  the  characters  and 
burlesque  incidents,  and  clearly  presents  its  philosophic 
conception  with  all  the  weight  of  a  thesis. 

Act  I. 
Scene  I.  —  At  the  rising  of  the  curtain  and  during  the 
holds  of  the  Choral  of  Baptism  (p.  337),  Walter  first 
reveals  his  flame  with  expressive  gestures,  which,  as  well 
as  his  conversation  with  Eva,  are  very  naturally  accom- 
panied by  the  motive  of  Waking  Love,  Impatient  Ardour, 
and  Love  Confessed.  Next,  in  the  preparations  for  the 
meeting  of  the  Meistersingcr,  we  see  David  for  the  first 
time,  with  his  gay  and  tripping  motiv,  having  the  charac- 
teristics of  a  good  fellow- 


320 


THE    MUSIC    DRAMAS 


f  dim 


Further  on  we  find  frequent  borrowings  from  The 
Meistersinger,  and  The  Banner,  as  well  as  the  motive  of 
love  already  mentioned. 

Scene  II.  —  The  second  scene  makes  us  acquainted 
with  two  new  themes  ;  that  of  Saint  Crispin,  the  patron 
of  the  shoemakers,  personifying  Hans  Sachs  in  the  prosaic 
exercise  of  his  manual  labour. 


SAINT    CRISPIN,  or  HANS  SACHS,  THE  SHOEMAKER 
David 


which  appears  here  once  in  the  orchestra,  as  David,  while 
attending  to  his  duties,  tries  to  instruct  Walter  in  the 
pedantic  rules  of  tablature  ;  and  that  of  The  Crown,  the 
beautiful  crown  of  flowers,  in  the  form  of  a  popular 
retrain,  which  David  sings  first,  and  which  the  joyous 
and  frolicsome  Apprentices  take  up  in  chorus. 


OF    RICHARD    WAGNER 


321 


David 


THE    CROWN 

-J8- 


[At  each  of  its  appearances  it  will  preserve  its  characteristics 
of  the  childlike  joy  of  the  Apprentices,  who  often  sing  it  while 
dancing  in  a  mad  circle.] 

Before  these  two  themes  appear,  David,  Waking  Love, 
The  Banner,  and  Impatient  Ardour  are  often  recalled. 

Scene  III. —  Accompanying  the  entrance  of  Pogner 
and  Beckmesser,  we  hear  the  theme  of  The  Assembly. 


THE    ASSEMBLY 


^ 


»r 


vf 


This  represents  the  Meistersinger,  no  longer  in  theii 
outward  functions,  their  business,  but  i r  1  their  private 
and  to  some  extent  administrative  occupations,  their  ex- 
aminations for  admission,  in  which  they  preserve  the 
same  solemn  forms  and  ritual,  and  the  same  feeling:  of 
their  own  importance.  Less  puffed  up  with  pride  than 
The  Meistersinger,  less  blatant  than  The  Banner,  this 
motiv     is    impressed    with    an    unctuous    dignity    which 

21 


322 


THE    MUSIC    DRAMAS 


borders  on  fatuity,  and  deliciously  completes  the  musical 
portrait  of  the  learned  brotherhood.  It  lasts  the  whole 
time  that  the  twelve  apostles  of  the  art  are  making  their 
successive  entrances,  and  then,  immediately  after  the 
roll-call,  Pcgner  introduces  to  us  a  very  serene  motiv, 
Saint  John,  which  in  itself  expresses  the  joy  and  happi 


Pogner 


SAINT    JOHN 


ness  of  the  festival  which  will  be  celebrated  on  the 
morrow,  but  which  for  the  moment  is  inseparable  in  the 
worthy  goldsmith's  mind  from  the  satisfaction  which  he 
feels  that  his  daughter,  Eva,  with  her  fortune,  will  be 
the  prize  of  the  contest,  that  it  will  make  her  very 
happy,  and  will  considerably  enhance  the  prestige  of  the 
learned  corporation. 

After  his  speech,  Saint  John  is  combined  with  The 
Assembly  and  The  Meistersinger ;  and  The  Crown  makes 
two  brief  appearances.  The  discussion  becomes  heated, 
and  everybody  speaks  at  once.  It  is  then  that  Pogner 
presents  the  knight  Walter  von  Stolzing  to  the  Meister- 
singer, and  the  following  motiv  accompanies  this  presen- 
tation, depicting  in  a  few  notes  his  elegant  and  supple 
figure  and  distinguished  appearance. 


OF    RICHARD    WAGNER 


323 


Tranquillo  e  misurato 


WALTER 


[This  proud  moth',  which  never  refers  to  any  one  but  Wal- 
ter, will  run  through  all  the  rest  of  the  work.] 

It  is  very  amusing  to  see  how  it  is  demeaned,  in  the 
course  of  the  same  scene,  ten  pages,  or  so,  later ;  then 
it  is  Walter  as  he  appears  to  Beckmesser  through  the 
morose  eyes  of  his  jealousy. 

Kothner  Beckmesser 


Almost  immediately  Walter  sings  his  delightful  song, 
The  Song  to  Walter's  Masters  (see  p.  338). 

Kothner,  in  a  strange  and  archaic  kind  of  psalmody, 
gives  a  lecture  on  the  unchangeable  rules  of  tablature  ; 
Beckmesser  utters  his  hoarse:  "Begin!"  and  Walter, 
seizing  his  words  on  the  wing,  improvises  his  Hymn  to 
Spring  (see  p.  339),  which  is  very  ill  received,  more 
especially,  as  was  to  be  expected,  bv  Beckmesser,  whose 
crabbed,  quarrelsome,  sullen  and  cavilling  nature  is  well 
depicted   in    the   following  jerky  and   domineering  motiv, 


324 


THE    MUSIC    DRAMAS 


full  of  dissonances  which  the  orchestra  takes   pleasure  in 
intensifying. 

QUARRELSOME    BECKMESSER 


A  kind  of  struggle  goes  on  in  the  orchestra  between 
Beckmesser's  and  Walter's  motive,  in  sympathy  with  the 
scene  between  the  two  characters,  until  Hans  Sachs 
begins  to  speak.  Pursued  by  Impatient  Ardour,  he  speaks 
with  a  gentle  and  calm  expressiveness  which  is  in  happy 
contrast  with  the  preceding  tumult.  Here  is  the  theme 
which  is  called  Sachs's  Good  Nature. 


SACHS'S    GOOD    NATURE 
Sachs 


far  Ik--  can  only  feel  sympathy  for  Walter,  but  when 
later  we  find  this  motiv  in  Act  III.,  Scene  II.,  it  will  be  con- 
siderably expanded  ;  it  will  not  then  be  simply  sympathy  that 
it  expresses,  but  the  most  devoted  affection.] 


OF    RICHARD    WAGNER 


325 


Sachs 


During  the  rest  of  the  scene  the  quarrel  becomes 
more  and  more  embittered  between  all  the  motive,  and 
at  last  the  poor  Sachs  is  defeated  by  the  hateful  Beck- 
messer  and  by  a  malicious  recall  of  Saint  Crispin. 

Walter  is  turned  out.  The  Apprentices  amuse 
themselves  to  the  air  of  The  Crown  ;  but  the  pedantic 
Meistersinger  triumph,  and  when  the  curtain  falls,  a 
revengeful  bassoon  turns  into  ridicule  the  motiv  of  The 
Meistersinger. 

Act  II. 

Scene  I. — The  Prelude  of  the  second  act  recalls 
the  motiv  of  Saint  'John.  On  the  rising  of  the  curtain, 
it  alternates  with  The  Crown,  which  is  sung  and  danced 
by  the  Apprentices. 

Scene  II.  —  During  the  dialogue  between  Pogner  and 
his  daughter,  is  heard  for  the  first  time  in  the  orchestra 
The  Patronal  Motiv  of  Nuremberg,  which  well  represents 
the  fine  old  German  citizen  of  the  16th  century,  and 
his  pleasure  at  the  popular  festival  and  at  this  interval  of 
rest,  which  is  at  once  joyful  and  ceremonial,  and  which 
flatters  his  vanity  as  an  easy-going  citizen,  —  a  motiv 
calm,  without  noise  or  clatter,  and  of  a  placid  and  some- 
what ponderous  gaiety. 


326 


THE    MUSIC    DRAMAS 


PATRONAL    MOTIV    OF    NUREMBERG 

Pogner 


Saint  Crispin  and  Waking  Love,  faintly  indicated,  are 
the  onlv  other  motive  in  this  scene. 

Scene  III.  —  After  new  allusions  to  Saint  Crispin,  the 
moth)  of  Impatient  Ardour  assumes  great  importance  dur- 
ing the  monologue  of  Sachs,  who  grows  more  and  more 
excited. 

Scene  IV.  —  Here,  with  Eva,  appears  her  character- 
istic theme,  full  of  grace  and  charm.  It  is  indeed  the 
type  of  the  prettv  German  maiden,  who  is  gracious  with- 
out being  coquettish,  simple,  naive,  and  full  of  sentiment, 
and,  moreover,  intelligent. 


Sachs 


EVA 


OF    RICHARD    WAGNER 


327 


Eva 


It  is  thus  that  she  must  appear  in  the  eyes  of  Walter 
with  his  poet's  enthusiasm,  and  of  Sachs  with  his  almost 
paternal  tenderness.  She  treats  Sachs  coaxingly  to  in- 
duce him  to  tell  her  what  has  happened  and  what  is 
likely   to   happen. 

The  motive  of  Saint  Crispin,  Walter^  and  ^)uarrelso?ne 
Beckmesser  constantly  underlie  the  dialogue,  as  a  com- 
mentary on  the  animated  conversation. 

Scene  V.  —  JValter  appears,  accompanied  by  his 
typical  motiv  ;  he  meets  Eva  (Impatient  Ardour  motiv); 
they  converse  of  Pogner's  decision  (Meister singer  motiv) ; 
then  the  Night-Watchman  sounds  his  burlesque  horn,  and 
immediately  there  arrives  a  new  motiv  of  love,  imper- 
sonal this    time,  the    harmony  of    which   is   exquisitely 


PEACE    OF    THE    SUMMER    NIGHT 


3i8 


THE    MUSIC    DRAMAS 


charming  and  seems  to  spread  its  soothing  influence 
over  all  nature.  The  Watchman  chants  his  mediaeval 
melopoeia,  announcing  the  tranquillity  of  the  little  town, 
and  in  the  distance  sounds  the  last  note  on  his  horn  ; 
and  then  begins,  to  last  to  the  end  of  the  act,  a  series 
of  humorous  scenes  in  which  music  plays  the  most 
wittv,  but   indescribable    part. 

Scene  VI.  —  Beckmesser  comes  in  to  croak  his 
Serenade  under  his  charmer's  window ;  he  comically 
tunes  his  lute,  and  Sachs  interrupts  him  with  a  Biblical 
Song  (p.  340).  He,  however,  manages  to  sing  in  some 
way  or  other,  with  many  contortions ;  but  the  mali- 
cious Sachs  energetically  scores  each  one  of  his  mis- 
takes with  a  loud  stroke  of  his  hammer  on  his  cobbler's 
last. 

The  Serenade  itself  is  perfectly  grotesque,  as  well 
by  its  music  and  prosody  as  by  the  absurdity  of  its 
words,  —  a  regular  masterpiece  of  silliness,  of  German 
buffoonery,  rather  heavy,  rather  coarse,  but,  at  the  same 
time,  rather  amusing;  the  lute  which  accompanies  it  is 
played  bv  one  of  the  musicians  ;  it  is  a  kind  of  rude 
harp,  the  strings  of  which  are  like  thick  iron  wires;  the 
sounds  which  it  produces  are  as  horrible  and  strange  a? 
the  voice  of  the  town-clerk. 


OF    RICHARD    WAGNER 

THE    SERENADE 


329 


Luth 


The  mot'w  of  The  Serenade,  according  to  Bcckmessc :r's 
ideas,  as  we  can  feel,  is  correctly  squared  according  to 
the  regular  rules,  and  embellished  with  the  most  ridiculous 
ornaments.      It  is  a  triumph  of  pedantry. 

SCENE  VII.  —  All  this  noise  stirs  up  first  the  neigh- 
bours, and  then  the  district  and  the  whole  town  ;  every- 
body is  quarrelling  and  fighting;  from  the  motiv  of  The 
Serenade,  which  originated  with  the  tuning  of  the  lute, 
The  Beating  is  derived  : 

THE    BEATING 


a*  *  m  n°n 


ffiiJm 


scmpre  J'orte  e  staccato 


Both  are  treated  by  Wagner  in  the  form  of  a  very  clever 
fugue  in  which  every  one  has  his  part,  Sachs,  Walter, 
the  Meister singer,  the  Apprentices,  the  neighbours,  and 
their  wives  ;  the  violins  grind  with  rage,  the  brass  bellows, 


3:-° 


THE    MUSIC    DRAMAS 


the  tumult  increases,  and  all  this  admirable  uproar  is 
made  only  with  a  few  fragments  of  the  lute  and  the  un- 
fortunate Serenade  ;  it  is  Beckmesser  baited  with  his  own 
motive. 

A  note  on  the  horn  of  the  placid  Watchman  puts  every 
one  to  flight,  and  when  he  enters,  every  one  has  disap- 
peared into  his  own  house. 

The  Peace  of  the  Summer  Night  alone  reigns,  and  is 
delightfully  refreshing  after  all  this  amusing  uproar. 

Act  III. 
Scene   I.  —  The   Prelude   is  woven  out  of  three  new 

motive  :    Sachs's  Profound  Emotion 

SACHS'S    PROFOUND    EMOTION 

Preli  de.     Un  poco  sostenuto 


serves  as  an  opening  and  a  conclusion  •,  Sachs's  Choral 
(p.  337)  and  his  Biblical  Song  (p.  340)  form  the  middle 
part.  The  former,  grave  and  sad,  which  has  also  been 
called  the  theme  of  Human  Wisdom,  has  already  made 
a  brief  appearance,  almost  unnoticed  in  fact,  in  Act  II., 
Scene  III.     It  is  now  about  to  become  very  important. 

At  the  rising  of  the  curtain  it  combines  with  the  gay 
motiv  David,  forming  a  curious  contrast.  Then  come 
memories  of  the  Lute,  of  The  Serenade  and  The  Beating; 
shortly  afterwards  David  sings  The  Choral  of  the  Jordan 
(p-  337);  a  recall  of  Sachs's  Profound  Emotion  mingling 
with  I!  uking  Love;  the  Patronal  motiv  of  Nuremberg  re- 


OF    RICHARD    WAGNER 


33i 


appears,  accompanied  by  a  new  form  which  seems  to 
characterize  Nuremberg  in  holiday  attire,  the  town  en 
fete. 

NUREMBERG    EN    FETE 


Sachs 


sempre  p 


•J  -y  dolce  espr.    ■*   *• 


teggiero  e  stacc. 


r       > 


^— t — » 


A 


^ 


p^p 


¥=je 


^P 


i    •   J^-    i" 


77^  .fttfrc  of  the  Summer  Night  presents  itself  to  Sachs's 
mind  with  fresh  reminiscences  of  The  Serenade  and  The 
Beating ;  Saint  'John  is  mingled  with  Waking  Love.  All 
these  motive  enable  us  to  penetrate  into  Sachs's  inner 
thoughts,  they  all  relate  to  the  subject  of  his  preoccupa- 
tion, and  his  emotion  keeps  increasing  in  proportion  as 
he  sees  the  moment  approach  when  he  will  be  able  to 
complete  his  work  by  making  two  people  happy. 

Scene  II.  —  A  prolonged  arpeggio  announces  Walter's 
arrival,  greeted  by  the  Profound  Emotion,  which  is  again 
mingled  with  Waking  Love. 

Walter  relates  that  he  has  had  a  wonderful  dream  ; 
and  immediately  in  the  orchestra  is  heard  the  Harmony 
of  the  Dream. 


332 


THE    MUSIC    DRAMAS 


HARMONY    OF    THE    DREAM 
Walter  Sachs 


[which  will  only  be  given  in  its  entirety  in  Scene  J\  ., 

Sachs 

&.  •  rrr  t — , — u 


i  the  question  arises  of  naming  the  melody  which  is  the 
result  of  this  dream,  that  is  to  say,  some  bars  before  the  Quintet 
of  Baptism.] 

It  is  in    this  scene  that   the  theme  of  Sachs's  Profound 
Emotion   reaches    its    fullest    expression,  while    Sachs   is 


OF    RICHARD    WAGNER 


333 


giving  Walter  one  of  the  most  beautiful  and  elevated 
lessons  in  composition.  Incidentally  there  reappear, 
every  now  and  then,  annotating  the  lecture,  Love  Con- 
fessed, [Falter,  and  Nuremberg  en  Fett ,  in  company  with 
the  Patronctl  Motiv. 

It  is  also  in  the  course  of  this  lesson  that  Sachs  sings 
the  beautiful  melody  of  Memories  of  Youth  (p.  341),  and 
Walter  sketches  his  graceful  and  poetic  Story  of  the 
Dream 

STORY    OF    THE    DREAM    (PRIZE    SONG) 
Walter 


[which   later,   when  developed  and  polished  according  to  the 
advice  of  the  worthy  Master,  becomes  the  Prize  Sotig~\. 

Note  that  the  beginning  of  the  third  Strophe  is  none 
other  than  the  motiv  of  Love  Confessed,  which  has  been 
familiar  to  us  since  the  Overture,  and  here  finds  its 
proper  use. 

Walter 


334 


THE   MUSIC    DRAMAS 


Scene  III.  —  Various  fragments  of  the  Lute,  The 
Serenade,  and  still  more  The  Beating,  accompany 
Beckmesser's  entrance,  not  without  jostling  the  Profound 
Emotion,  Saint  Crispin,  The  Story  of  the  Dream,  Nurem- 
berg, The  Quarrelsome  Beckmesser,  etc.,  but  there  is  no  new 
motiv  in  this  scene. 

Scene  IV.  —  Shortly  after  Eva's  arrival,  we  must 
notice  a  pretty  melodic  figure  of  a  delightful  flexibility, 
which  wonderfully  aids  in  depicting  her  Anxiety  in  all  the 
phases  through  which  she  is  successively  to  pass,  includ- 
ing hope,  fear,  and  uncertainty. 


EVA'S    ANXIETY 


Eva 


The  majority  of  the  other  motive  follow  it  in  procession, 
(.specially  that  of  Walter,  who  now  repeats  the  Story  of 
the  Dream  in  its  entirety,  followed  by  a  new  outbreak 
of  Sachs's  Profound  Emotion,  which  comes  in  very 
appropriately. 

Here  occurs  a  musical  fact  which  has  no  parallel  in 
all  Wagner's  work,  and  which  is  full  of  witty  appro- 
priateness :  Sachs,  having  to  say  that  he  knows  the 
history  of  Tristan  and  Isolde,  and  that  he  has  no  inten- 
tion of  being  a  second  King  Mark,  the  orchestra  illus- 
trates his  words  by  borrowing  from  the  very  score  of 
Tristan  uud  Isolde.      And   how   happily  they  are   chosen  ! 


OF    RICHARD    WAGNER  335 

The  love  of  Tristan  and  Isolde  is  represented  by  the 
motiv  of  Desire,  and  King  Mark  by  that  of  Consternation 
(see  pp.  285  and  307). 

Next,  the  Choral  of  Baptism  (Act  I.,  Scene  I.)  is 
cleverly  recalled  several  times,  the  Harmony  of  the 
Dream  here  receives  its  full  expansion,  then  comes 
the  delightful  vocal  ensemble  which  has  received  the 
name  of  The  Baptism  Quintet,  and  which  departs 
strangely  from  Wagnerian  methods.  We  shall  speak 
of  it  again  (p.  342). 

A  kind  of  orchestral  interlude,  formed  in  particular  of 
the  motive  Nuremberg,  Saint  "John,  and  The  Meistersinger, 
broken  into  by  calls  on  the  horns  and  trumpets,  while 
the  scene  is  changing,  serves  as  a  bond  of  union  with  the 
next  tableau,  which  is  formed  entirely  of  a  single  scene. 

Scene  V. —  This  last  scene  of  the  work  does  not 
contain  a  single   new  motiv. 

The  Corporations  defile  past :  the  Shoemakers  are 
escorted  by  Saint  Crispin  ;  the  Tailors  and  Bakers  are  pre- 
ceded by  their  respective  flourishes  of  trumpets ;  the  Ap- 
prentices dance  a  rustic  waltz  full  of  animation;  and  then 
the  entrance  of  the  Meistersinger  occurs  to  the  tones  of 
their  own  typical  motiv,  which,  as  would  naturally  happen 
in  view  of  the  solemnity,  is  escorted  by  The  Banner, 
hailed  by  all  the  people,  who  spontaneously  sing  Sachs's 
Choral  (p.  337),  which  redoubles  the  Profound  Emotion 
of  that  worthy  man. 

He  makes  a  short  but  heartfelt  speech,  accompanied 
by  the  figure  of  The  Assembly,  and  the  motive  of  The 
Meistersinger  and  Saint  John.      Then  the  Contest  begins. 

Beckmesser  opens  the  ball.  He  stammers  out 
Walter's  verses,  disfigured  and  deprived  of  all  sense,  to 
a  melody  (?)  of  the  same  kind  as  his  Serenade,  accom- 
panying   himself  on    his    indescribable    instrument  ;    he 


336  THE    MUSIC    DRAMAS 

breaks  clown,  he  makes  a  fool  of  himself,  he  is  hooted 
by  the  crowd,  and  still  more  by  the  orchestra;  he  gets 
into  a  rage  ;   Quarrelsome  Beckmesser  reappears. 

After  this  return  to  the  coarse  buffoonery  of  the 
second  act,  it  is  Walter's  turn  to  sing  ;  for  the  last  time 
he  sings  his  Story  of  the  Drea?n,  which  has  reached  its 
complete  development,  and  now  takes  the  name  of  the 
Prize-Song. 

The  people  applaud  him,  the  Meistersinger  them- 
selves are  gained  over,  all  the  \ove-motive  cross  and  re- 
cross  in  the  orchestra,  and  Eva  awards  him  the  crown, 
which  she  places  upon  his  brow  herself,  to  the  first 
phrase  of  the  third  strophe  of  the  Prize-Song. 

It  is  needless  to  say  that  all  the  motive  have  had 
occasion  to  appear  in  the  most  joyful  manner  during 
this   ensemble   scene. 

Sachs  steps  forward  to  address  the  victor,  takes  his 
hand,  and  then  we  hear,  as  at  the  conclusion  of  the 
Overture,  Love  Confessed  (the  third  Strophe  of  the 
Prize-Song),  associated  with  the  theme  of  The  Meister- 
singer, which,  of  course,  the  pompous  Banner  hastens 
to  join. 

It  is  on  these  last  motive,  that  is  to  say,  those  of  the 
Overture,  that  the  work  ends,  in  a  riot  of  brilliant 
trumpets. 

Chorals. 

The  score  of  Die  Meistersinger  von  Niirnberg,  which 
takes  us  back  into  the  first  years  of  Lutheran  Reform, 
contains  three-  Chorals  which  are  very  important  for  us 
to  know. 

I  he  first  is  heard  in  the  old  church  of  Saint  Katha- 
rine at  the  rising  of  the  curtain,  and  is  harmonized  in 
the  austere  and  classic  manner  of  J.  S.  Bach. 


OF    RICHARD    WAGNER 


337 


Soprani 


CHORAL    OF    BAPTISM 

L'istesso  tempo  (moderato) 


The  second  is   sung  by  David   almost   at   the  end  of 
the  third  act  (Scene  I.),  under  the  melodic  form. 

CHORAL    OF    THE    JORDAN 
David 


ffHfJ'  IE   f  U  JL+J^-f 


The  third,  which  Wagner  attributes  to  Sachs  himself, 
appears  in  the  Prelude  of  the  third  act  sufficiently  for  us 
to  recognize  it  again  when  the  people  give  him  a  flatter- 
ing ovation  in  the  last  scene. 


CHORAL    OF    SACHS 


33» 


THE   MUSIC    DRAMAS 


Independent  Motive. 

We  must  also  mention  in  addition,  although  they  do 
not  constitute  Leit-motiv  e,  a  few  absolutely  independent 
great  and  beautiful  melodic  forms,  which  are  complete 
in  themselves.  They  must  be  regarded  as  a  species  of 
Lieder,  which  produce  a  sense  of  repose  in  the  midst  of 
the  contrapuntal  net  of  the  continuous  melody,  with 
which  they,  however,  are  often  Connected,  either  by  the 
amusing  details  of  their  harmonic  structure,  or  by  the 
melodic  figures  which  are  designedly*  introduced  into 
the  accompaniments.      The  principal  ones  are  : 

The  motiv  of  IValters  Masters,  which  is  unfolded  in 
two  strophes  and  an  envoy  (Act  I.  Scene  II.)  ; 


WALTER'S    MASTERS 


Moderato 
Walter 


i 


r     y    r     v   J       •> 


i-"^ 


m 


poco   cresc. 


OF    RICHARD    WAGNER 


339 


The  Hymn  to  Spring,  also  of  two  strophes,  but  unlike 
each  other,  is  delightful  poetry  of  exquisite  freshness ; 
the  accompaniment  of  which  is  almost  entirely  made  up 
of  fragments  of  Impatient  Ardour  (Act  I.,  Scene  III.) ; 


HYMN    TO    SPRING 


.  Qm      ""     " 

~^> 

0      f 

3            'p 

i — f  , 

f 

j^ 

3  _ 

J 

'^    *L =g 

The  Melopoela  of  the  Night-Watchman,  which  appears 
twice  (Act  II.  Scene  V.  and  Act  II.  end  of  Scene  VII.), 
each  time  preceded  and  followed  by  a  comical  call  on 
the  horn,  which  always  sounds  horribly  out  of  tune  ; 


340 


THE    MUSIC  DRAMAS 


MELOPCEIA    OF    THE    NIGHT    WATCHMAN 

Night  Watchman 


The  Biblical  Song,  which  is  at  once  archaic  in  form 
and  full  of  genial  humour,  is  formed  of  three  regular 
couplets  (Act  II.  Scene  VI.).  It  is  recalled  in  the 
Prelude  to  the  third  act; 


Sachs 


BIBLICAL    SONG 


t-r   t  tf  |  r 


OF  RICHARD    WAGNER 

m 


341 


The  Memories  of  Youth  (Act  III.  Scene  II.),  and   the 


MEMORIES    OF    YOUTH 


delicious  ensemble  of  the  Quintet  of  Baptism,  which 
ends  the  fourth  scene  of  the  third  act  in  the  most 
graceful     and     poetic     manner.        The     presence    of    a 


342 


THE    MUSIC   DRAMAS 


THE    PROPHETIC    DREAM    (Quintet  of  Baptism) 
Eva 


Quintet,  a  regularly-developed  ensemble  piece,  is  a 
tnatti  i  of  surprise  in  a  work  of  the  period  of  Wagner's 
full    maturity. 

We  may,  however,  explain  it  by  the  consideration 
that  the  live  characters  on  the  stage  at  this  moment  are 
in  perfect  communion  of  ideas,  and  this  relieves  it  from 
being  in  any  way  illogical. 

However,  it  is  probable  that  this  piece  was  written 
long  before  the  rest  of  the  score,  and  was  one  of  the 
hist  sketches  (see  p.  46),  dating  from  the  period  of 
Tannhduser. 


THE    TETRALOGY    OF    DER    RING    DES    NIBELUNGEN. 


RINO  DES   NIBELUNGEN 

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• 
• 

• 

•  • 

•  • 

• 
• 
• 

•  •• 

SS.?ii!»rfiS?di 

• 

• 

• 

•  •• 

• 
• 

•  ••• 

•  •    • 

•  • 

• 

•-  • 

• 

• 

• 
•  • 

• 

Th«R..«orth.wil,m., 

• 

....« 

TbtH™»oi.taW,l,„J, 

SDiSV.i.'.oo.i.:::::::::::::: 

•  • 
• 

• 

• 

•  •• 

• 

• 

.  -  • 

•  • 
•      • 

•   • 

• 
• 
• 

•  • 

"I^a::.^.^***! 

••• 

• 
• 

-  • 

• 

•  • 

•  •• 

•  • 
• 

• 

• 

Tta/^m^molr  N,:^  Life 

• 

• 
• 

• 

• 

• 
• 

•   • 
• 

•  • 
• 

• 

•  • 

• 

•  •• 

•  • 

• 

•  • 

•  ■ 

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•• 

• 

•  • 

•  • 
•    • 

• 

-•• 

• 

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••• 

• 

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■  ■• 

•  •• 
•  • 

•  •        • 

..  ..« 
■  ■•• 

^ij':".ofEj?eloc 

•  ..••• 

OF    RICHARD    WAGNER  343 

DER    RING    DES    NIBELUNGEN 
DAS    RHEINGOLD 

Prelude.  —  The  prelude  of  Das  Rheingold  consists  ex- 
clusively of  that  colossal  hold  of  a  single  chord,  the  chord 
of  E-flat,  of  which  we  have  already  spoken  (p.  257). 
This  sustained  note  is  in  itself  a  Leit-motiv  of  the  most 
expressive,  descriptive,  and  philosophical  character.  It 
symbolizes  the  primitive  element,  water,  in  a  state  of 
repose;  the  water  from  which,  according  to  the  teaching 
of  mythology,  life  springs  complete  with  all  its  struggles 
and  passions.  During  this  long  sustained  note  we  hear 
the  beginnings  of  life;  but  those  are  things  which  are 
outside  the  province  of  words,  and  which  music  alone, 
speaking  without  an  intermediary  to  the  intelligence,  can 
hope  to  make  us  comprehend. 

First,  we  hear  a  single  mysterious  note,  very  grave 
and  greatly  protracted  :  this  is  Nature  asleep ;  to  this 
fundamental,  single,  and  primitive  tone  is  then  added  its 
fifth  ;  and,  after  a  long  interval,  the  octave ;  then,  one 
by  one,  all  the  other  harmonics  in  the  same  order  in 
which  Nature  produces  them  ;  then,  passing  notes,  more 
and  more  frequent;  then  appear  rhythms,  at  first  rudi- 
mentary, which  mingle  and  assume  complicated  forms; 
organization  has  already  commenced  ;  at  long  intervals 
new  instruments  are  added  ;  a  kind  of  regular  and  ca- 
denced  undulation  is  established,  giving  the  feeling  of 
water  in  movement;  the  sound  gradually  swells  out 
and  invades  the  orchestra  like  a  torrent  ;  the  movement 
of  the  waves  is  accentuated,  a  trembling  arises  and 
increases,  bringing  the  prescience  of  life;  and,  when 
the  curtain    rises,  we    are   not   in   the   least    surprised  to 


i 


K 


344  THE    MUSIC    DRAMAS 

find  ourselves  at  the  bottom  of  a  large  flowing  river,  full 
to  the  hanks;  our  mind  had  already  pictured  what  the 
scenery   reveals. 

[This  prodigious  motiv,  which  is  often  called  the  motiv  of  the 
Primeval  Element,  throughout  the  whole  Tetralogy  is  destined 
to  personify  the  Rhine,  and  yet  its  recurrences  will  not  be  very 
frequent.  Outside  the  Prologue  which  is  constructed  upon  it, 
we  shall  only  find  it  again  incidentally  and  hastily  sketched  in 
the  first  scene  of  Siegfried,  simply  because  the  latter  in  his 
imaginative  talk  speaks  of  the  fishes  which  swim  ;  it  resumes  its 
greatest  importance  in  Gotterdammerung  every  time  there  is  a 
question  of  restoring  the  treasure  to  the  Rhine,  which  is  con- 
sidered here  as  the  representative  of  the  primordial  element, 
water. 

But  its  chief  importance  dominates  the  entire  work  and  mani- 
fests itself  in  the  fact  that  the  majoritv  of  the  most  essential 
motive  are  formed  out  of  its  constituent  elements  ;  that  is  to  say 
from  the  natural  harmonic  tones  (the  perfect  major  chord), 
grouped  in  various  ways  and  more  or  less  ornamented  with  pass- 
ing-notes, which  any  musician  will  be  able  to  recognize.  Chief 
among  those  which  are  most  unquestionably  derived  from  it  in 
this  way,  and  which  we  shall  meet  in  the  following  pages,  I 
will  cite  :  The  Rhine- Daughters,  The  Rhine-gold,  The  Golden 
Apples,  The  Norns,  The  Fall  of  the  Gods,  The  Incantation  of 
the  Thunder,  The  Rainbow,  The  Sword,  The  Ride  of  the 
Walkyries,  and  Brunnbilde' s  Sleep,  etc.,  the  signification  of 
which,  whether  material,  psychological,  or  metaphysical,  always 
allows  some  relation  or  other  to  be  established  between  them 
and   the   idea   of  the  primeval   element.] 

Here,  then,  is  this  important  motiv  under  some  of  the 
principal  forms  which  it  successively  assumes  from  the 
beginning  of  the  Prelude,  which  Prelude  it  wholly  fills, 
constantly  flooding  and  increasing  in  volume  without 
ever  leaving  the  single  chord  of  E-flat  major. 

It  is  a  marvel  of  boldness  and  genius. 


OF    RICHARD    WAGNER 

THE    RHINE 


345 


Scene  I. —  As  soon  as  a  new  chord  appears,  life  itself 
is  manifested  by  the  presence  and  the  seductively  inno- 
cent song  of  the  charming  Rhine-Daughters,  gracefully 
swimming  around  their  Gold. 


THE    RHINE-DAUGHTERS 


Woglinde 


346 


THE    MUSIC    DRAMAS 


This  beguiling  and  flexible  mot'w,  mingled  with  The 
Rhine,  dominates  the  whole  of  the  ensemble  in  Scene  I., 
interrupted,  however,  bv  certain  harsh  and  clashing 
rhythms,  one  on  the  entrance  of  Alberich  (G  minor), 
and  the  other  in  2-time,  both  undoubtedly  depicting  the 
ungraceful  gait  and  repulsive  advances  of  the  hateful 
gnome. 

[The  second  will  be  recognized  at  the  beginning  of  Scene 
III.] 

When  Alberich  has  met  with  the  successive  refusals 
of  the  three  Undines,  he  vents  his  rage  in  a  kind  of  mis- 
erable cry,  twice  repeated,  formed  of  only  two  notes  in 
the  descending  minor  second,  which  vividly  expresses  the 
despair  caused  by  his  impotence. 


OF    RICHARD    WAGNER 

BONDAGE 


347 


[This  brief  formula  throughout  the  Tetralogy  will  be  con- 
nected with  the  ideas  of  Bondage,  servitude,  or  subjugation,  and 
its  use  will  be  very  frequent,  not  to  say  perpetual. 

If  it  is  difficult  to  recognize  it  on  account  of  its  brevity, 
yet  the  painful  character  of  its  accents  will  always  attract 
attention.] 

At  the  moment  when  the  Gold  shines  forth,  it  is 
saluted  by  a  brilliant  flourish  of  trumpets,  which  is  re- 
peated several   times    and  will    remain    its   characteristic 

GOLD 


motiv,   visibly   derived    from    The    Rhine,  as    it    logically 
should  be,  since  it   is  the   Gold  of  the   Rhine. 

In  the  brilliant  ensemble  of  the  three  voices  which  fol- 
lows this  vision  of  the  Gold,  the  latter  is  glorified  by  a 
kind  of  cry  of  joy  from  the  Nymphs;  it  assumes  two 
different  forms,  which  may  be  presented  separately  or  in 
combination  without  losing  any  of  its  signification  there- 
by ;  this  cry  is  not  afterwards  attached  to  the  Nymphs 
personally,  except  in  so  far  as  is  necessarv  to  convey  the 


348  THE    MUSIC    DRAMAS 

idea   of  joy.      It    is   the    Adoration    of  the    Gold,  nothing 
more. 

The  Hrst  form  is  generally  twice  repeated.  ( We 
must  also  notice  that  when.  Wagner  wishes  to  impress 
a  Leit-motiv  upon  the  attention  of  the  listener,  he  never 
fears  insisting  upon  it,  and  that  is  one  of  the  things 
which  never  render  it  necessary  for  us  to  hunt  for  them  ; 
ir  is  sufficient  to  listen.) 

Woglinde  THE 

Weligunde     ADORATION    OF    THE    GOLD 

Flosshilde 


rrp  i  :     a  %     n — - 

ess 


In  its  second  form  wc  must  note  its  vocal  accent,  its 
Characteristic  inflection  and  instrumental  design,  glitter- 
ing like  polished  metal  ;    each  will  be  employed  separately 


OF    RICHARD    WAGNER 


349 


while  still   meaning   the    same   thing  •,    it    is   always   The 
Adoration   of  the   Gold. 

It  is  then  that  one  of  the  Nymphs  commits  the  fatal 
indiscretion  of  revealing  to  the  gnome  the  omnipotence 
with  which  a  Ring  will  be  endowed  if  forged  from  this 
Gold,  and  she  does  this  by  means  of  the  following  new 
motiv,  which,  it  will  be  remarked,  offers  many  resem- 
blances to  that  of  the  Ring,  which  does  not  appear  till 

later. 

THE    POWER    OF    THE    RING 

Wellgunde 


¥i:-l±5&t\& 


m 


f- 


f= 


m 


v 


j@^ 


To  tell  the  truth,  the  action  of  the  entire  drama 
hinges  on  this  ;  without  the  thoughtless  chatter  of  the 
Nixies,  Alberich  would  not  have  thought  of  stealing  the 
GoI3  which  is  to  cause  so  many  misfortunes. 


THE    RENUNCIATION    OF    LOVE 


Woglinde 


PPPF 


rrTf' 


35° 


THE    MUSIC    DRAMAS 


fr  pr  -^h 


"^Wt  SteaL 


But,  in  order  to  possess  this  Gold,  another  Daughter 
of  the  Rhine  informs  him,  it  is  necessary  to  renounce 
love. 

Alberich  does  not  hesitate  for  long ;  seeing  the  im- 
possibility of  gaining  and  embracing  the  agile  Nymphs, 
he  turns  his  ambitious  thoughts  in  the  direction  of  wealth 
and  power;  the  orchestra,  echoing  his  thoughts,  darkly 
murmurs  the  theme  of  The  Power  of  the  Ring,  followed 
by  the  formula  of  Renunciation,  and  immediately  after- 
wards, springing  eagerly  upon  the  rock,  mounting,  or 
rather  scaling  it,  he  succeeds  in  seizing  the  coveted 
Gold. 

At  the  very  end  of  Scene  I.  there  appears  for  the 
first  time  the  theme  which  is  especially  attached  to  the 
Ring. 

THE    RING 


t — i — » * 

3 
f 

r$ 

■yy-rr^f     r 

V 

f — 

► 

9t 

v  — ■ 

p 

p 

v.. , 

" 

V    r\       r     i 

[This,  be  it  understood,  will  run  through  the  entire  work.] 


OF    RICHARD    WAGNER 


35i 


Scene  II.  —  By  a  method  frequent  with  Wagner, 
but  which  here  finds  one  of  its  most  beautiful  applica- 
tions, the  above  motiv,  by  a  series  of  transformations, 
is  insensibly  merged  into  that  of  IValhalla,  which  is 
absolutely  different  in  character,  majestically  depicting 
the  sumptuous  Palace  of  the  Gods.  This  moth  placidly 
reveals  its  splendour  in  the  calm  and  sweet  key  of  D- 
flat  major.  WALHALLA 


[It  will  be  subject  to  many  transformations.  In  Siegfried, 
Act  III.  Scene  I.,  we  see  it  triumphant  in  4-time  associated 
with  the  theme  of  The  Sword  : 


in  the  second  act  of  Gotterdammerung,  at  the  end   of  the  first 
scene,  where  Alberich  is   prompting   Hagen   to  reconquer    theii 
power,  it  appears  dismantled,  in  ruins,  and  contemptible. 
Alberich 


352 


THE   MUSIC    DRAMAS 


It  has  alrcadv  been  seen  in  this  condition  in  Act  II.  Scene  II. 
of  Die  ll'alkuri,  when  Wotan  foresees  the  approaching  end  of 
the  gods. 

Finally,  it  is  often  represented  by  its  last  notes  alone,  forming 
a  conclusion  of  great  splendour,  in  which  we  may  recognize  a 
kind  of  majestic  Hail  to  Walballa,  found  in  Rheingold,  Scene 
II.,  three  bars  before  the  suppression  of  the  flats.] 

HAIL    TO    WALHALLA 
Wotan 


Three  bars  farther  on  appears  the  theme  called  The 
Treaty,  representing  in  a  general  way  the  idea  of  any 
treatv,  of  a  pact,  or  a  bargain  struck,  which  is  first  ener- 
getically expressed  by  its  first  two  notes  (which  are  the 
same  as  Bondage),  followed  by  a  descent  by  steps  which 
are  as  deliberate,  heavy,  and  implacable  as  destiny,  giving 
the  idea  of  a  duty  to  be  fulfilled. 


Fricka 


THE    TREATY 


OF    RICHARD    WAGNER 


353 


Forty-two  bars  later  we  find  the  pretty  theme  of 
Love's  Fascination,  which  first  forms  the  second  half  of 
a  beautiful  phrase  sung  by  Fricka  (in  F),  and  which 
Wotan  takes  up  shortly  afterwards  (in  E-flat),  thus  : 


Wotan 


LOVE'S    FASCINATION 


$Ui]J  A 


9 


f 


\c 


¥ 


At   the  moment   when   Freia  comes  flying  on   to  the 
stage,  this  motiv  is  heard  for  the  first   time  in  the   double 


354 


THE    MUSIC    DRAMAS 


form,  the  two  parts  of  which  have  two  distinct  sig- 
nifications ;  the  first  belongs  to  Frei'a,  the  goddess  of 
love,  and  will  remain  personal  to  her ;  the  second  repre- 
sents Flight,  and  will  henceforth  express  the  act  of 
flight,  whosoever  the  flying  personage  may  be.  In  the 
present  case  it  represents  Frei'a  in  full  flight  from  her 
persecutors. 

Almost  immediately  afterwards  The  Giants  appear  with 


w%m 


m 


-** 


■EEcizrg 


M 


m 


B      \*1      Y. 


^m 


-*    V 

V 


their  ponderous,  heavy,  and  massive  motiv,  which  seems 
as  if  it  might  remove  rocks;  this  theme  will  undergo  a 
curious  transformation  in  Siegfried,  when  it  has  to  rep- 
resent one  of  the  Giants  changed  to  a  Dragon  (p.  400). 
W  hen  it  is  no  longer  a  question  of  designating  any 
pact  or  treaty  whatsoever,  but  only  that  treaty  concluded 
with  the  Giants  for  the  construction  of  Walhalla,  Wagner 
has  recourse  to  a  fresh  form  which  is  not  without  some 
affinity  to  the  moth  of  The  Treaty,  and  which  is  gene- 
rally treated  in  canon. 


OF    RICHARD    WAGNER 

TREATY    WITH    THE    GIANTS 


355 


Fasolt 


It  is  in  this  scene,  37  bars  after  the  signature  of  the 
key  in  A-flat,  that  this  motiv  is  heard  for  the  first  time. 

About  two  pages  farther  on,  a  graceful  contrast  is 
afforded  by  the  elegant  figure  of  The  Golden  dpples, — 
those  apples  which  supply  the  gods  with  eternal  youth, 
and  which  Freia  alone  can  cultivate,  which  Fafner  ex- 
hibits to  us  on  the  most  cavernous  notes  of  his  deep 
bass  voice,  and  which,  by  the  contrast,  gives  a  rather 
curious  effect. 


Fafner 


THE    GOLDEN    APPLES 


The  typical  motiv  which  corresponds  to  the  personality 
of  the  god  Loge  is  as  changing  and  variable  as  himself. 
The   example  given  below,  which  accompanies  his   first 


356 


THE    MUSIC    DRAMAS 


entrance,  groups  together  and  unites  many  essentially 
chromatic  figures,  which  seem  to  be  writhing  and  hiss- 
ing, and  by  which  he  is  always  represented;  these  same 
figures  are  frequently  inverted,  and  descend,  or  are 
truncated  and  modified,  but  they  are  always  easily  recog- 
nizable, as  no  other  Leit-motiv  has  this  leaping  motion 
and  malicious  behaviour. 


LOGE 


OF    RICHARD    WAGNER 


357 


Closely  related  to  the  latter  is  the   scintillating  motiv 
of  The  Flames,  which  appears  here  immediately  after  it 


THE  FLAMES'    SPELL 


Wotan 


i 


I 


i 


^pJI^^>f^f 


[and  will   guard   Briinnhildc's   slumber   in   the   third  act  of  Die 
Walkiire~\ . 


The  last  new  motiv  which  this  scene  presents  is  the 
following,  which  may  be  readily  found  when  the  signa- 
ture of  the  key  of  13  in  |  appears  :  it  is  called  Love's 
Regret. 


358 


THE   MUSIC    DRAMAS 


Loge 


LOVE'S    REGRET 


During  the  changing  of  the  scene,  there  is  a  kind  of 
interlude,  which  is  purely  musical,  picturing  the  descent 
of  Wotan  and  Loge  into  dark  Nibelheim,  to  Alberich's 
subterranean  forge.  This  interlude  is  principally  built 
up  on  the  motiv  of  Loge,  with  some  recollections  of 
Lamentation,  Bondage,  Gold,  and  Flight,  of  the  significa- 
tion of  which  there  is  no  doubt ;  gradually  in  the  orches- 
tra the  rhythm  of  the  moth  of  The  Forge  appears,  which 
is  taken  up  with  an  ever-increasing  vigour  by  anvils  in 
tune  behind  the  scenes. 

THE    FORGE 


Finally  there  is  a  double  return  of  Bondage  and  The 
Ring,  and  we  reach 

S<  ENE  III.,  in  which,  almost  at  the  beginning,  as  Al- 
berich  is  desirous  of  testing  the  power  of  the  Magic  Helm 
(The  Tarnhelm)  which  he  has  made  Mime  forge  for  him, 
the  orchestra  introduces  to  us  the  mysterious  harmony 
by  which  it  is  to  be  musically  designated.  These  chords, 
which  are  sometimes  given  to  horns  stationed  in  the 
wings,  produce  the  most  strange  effect.  The  German 
word  Tarnhelm  has  been  variously  translated  :  The  En- 
chanted  Helm,    The  Charm  of  the  Helm,  or,  again, 


OF    RICHARD    WAGNER  359 

THE    POWER    OF    THE    HELM 


After  a  loud  repetition  of  the  rhythm  of  The  Forge 
there  comes  a  strange  series  of  disjunct  thirds,  which 
seem  to  represent  reflection  or  profound  meditation,  ap- 
plicable to  various  characters. 


REFLECTION 


Considerably  farther  on  in  the  same  scene  when  Al- 
berich,  in  the  fulness  of  his  pride,  fondles  his  Ring  and 
waves  it  in  a  threatening  manner,  is  heard  for  the  first 
time  the  motiv  characteristic  of  his  power  and  the  vanity 
which  arises  from  it.  It  is  very  interesting  closely  to 
study  this  somewhat  complex  motiv,  which  in  the  follow- 
ing  example   is  given   to   the   orchestra,   and   in   which, 


36o 


Alberich 


THE    MUSIC    DRAMAS 

ALBERICH'S    POWER 


though  somewhat  modified  by  the  use  of  chromatics  and 
of  the  minor,  we  may  trace  the  two  forms  of  The  Ador- 
ation of  the  Gold  (p.  348),  followed  by  the  first  notes  of 
The  Amassing  of  the  Treasure,  given  below. 

THE    AMASSING    OF    THE    TREASURE 
Loge  Alberich 


OF    RICHARD    WAGNER 


361 


(The  first  form  of  The  Adoration  of  the  Gold  is  here 
combined  with  Bondage.') 

A  little  farther  appears  the  motiv  of  The  Amassing  of  the 
Treasure^  which  sheds  a  passing  glory  upon  the  dwarf. 

[It  will    be  found  curiously  associated  with  Bondage  and   The 

Forge,  when  the  captured  dwarf  is  forced  to  give  up  his  treasure 

to  Wofan.] 

Bondage 


The  Amassing  of  the  Treasure 
Bondage 


The  Amassing  of  the  Treasure 

A  curiously  constructed  motiv   is  that  which   has  been 
called    The  Nibelung's  Cry  of  Triumph.      It   is  composed 


THE    NIBELUNG'S    CRY    OF    TRIUMPH 

Loge 


362 


THE   MUSIC    DRAMAS 


of  one  bar  taken  from  Walhalla,  and  another  assuming 
the  form  peculiar  to  Loge,  thus  showing  that  Alberich 
already  considers  himself,  by  means  of  lire,  the  master 
of  the  world,  and  this  is  why  he  exults. 

Much  more  simple,  but  exceedingly  descriptive,  is  the 
roaring  motiv  of  The  Dragon,  which  naturally  occurs 
when,  at  the  request  of  his  visitors,  the  proud  dwarf  as- 
sumes this  form  by  the  aid  of  his  helm. 

THE    DRAGON 


Having  captured  the  dwarf,  the  gods  return  to  the 
surface  of  the  earth  with  their  prisoner,  which  gives  rise 
to  a  fresh  change  of  scenery  and  a  new  symphonic  inter- 
lude. The  latter  begins  with  a  reminiscence,  which  is 
most  certainly  ironical,  of  The  Nibelung's  Cry  of  Triumph, 
in  which  the  element  of  fire,  Loge,  displays  an  unusual 
development ;  The  Ring  appears  joyously  and  ends  with 
I  he-  Lamentation  ;  then  reappear  the  sounds  of  The  Forge, 
but  gradually  dying  away ;  the  feeling  is  given  that  we 
are  going  over  the  same  road  in  the  contrary  direction. 
After   a    return    of   Flight,   the    motiv   of    The    Giants    is 


OF    RICHARD    WAGNER 


363 


faintly  heard,  as  if  to  remind  us  that  they  are  not  far  off; 
it  is  combined  with  IValhalla,  then  with  Bondage,  and  is 
connected  with  the  succeeding  scene  by  means  of  a 
pedal  on  the  dominant,  above  which  is  heard  The  Adora- 
tion of  the  Gold. 

Scene  IV.  —  At  the  very  beginning  of  the  scene 
in  the  9th  bar,  an  amusing  little  leaping  figure  represents 
the  god  Loge,  joyfully  dancing  and  snapping  his  fingers 
around  the  bound  dwarf.  Without  having  the  character 
of  a  Leit-motiv,  it  is  repeated  two  pages  later.  Note 
also  the  imitative  manner  in  which  the  orchestra  renders 
the  noise  of  the  rubbing  together  of  the  cords  as  Loge 
gradually  frees    the  Nibelung  from  his  bonds. 

Immediately  he  is  free,  the  following  menacing  rhythm 
darkly    mutters    in   the   depths    of  the   "  mystic   abyss," 

THE    NIBELUNGS'    WORK    OF    DESTRUCTION 


expressing  the  continuous  labour  by  which  the  vindictive 
gnomes  will  henceforth  ceaselessly  undermine  the  divine 
abode,  sapping  at  its  base  until  it  is  completely  ruined. 

[This  easily  recognizable  rhythm  will  not  reappear  in  Die 
Walkiire,  but  it  will  be  found  very  frequently  in  Siegfried  and 
in  G6tterdammeruJig.~\ 

Alberich,  in  a  phrase  of  demoniacal  expression,  imme- 
diately hurls  his  anathema  at  the  Ring,  which  he  curses, 
and  which  henceforth  shall  bring  misfortune  on  all  its 
possessors. 


364 


THE   MUSIC    DRAMAS 


Alberich 


CURSE    OF    THE    RING 


This  malevolent  motiv  is  nearly  always  acccompanied 
bv  the  rhythm  of  Destruction,  and,  towards  the  end  of  the 
curse,  by  dlbericb's  Poiver,  which  is  immediately  qualified 
with  Bondage. 

The  action  proceeds  without  the  necessity  of  any  new 
motive  being  introduced  till  the  moment  of  the  appear- 
ance of  Erda,  who  in  sinister  tones  announces  the  theme 
of  The  Nonis,  her  daughters,  the  Fates  of  Scandinavian 


THE    NORNS 


^»'"' j:  JrM 


OF    RICHARD    WAGNER 


365 


mythology.      This  moth  reproduces,  in  the  minor  and   in 

4-time,  the   principal    form   of   The    Rhine,  the  original 

element. 

In   the  same  way  by  contrary  motion  the  Fall  of  the 

Gods l   is   derived    from    it ;    this,   as   well   as    The   Ring, 

appears  with   the  last  words  of  Erda's  prophecy,  which 

has  been  accompanied  by  The  Norm  and   The  IVork  of 

Destruction. 

THE    FALL    OF    THE    GODS 


The  numerous  Lett-motive  which  have  been  already 
created  suffice  for  Wagner  until  the  formidable  Incanta- 
tion of  the  Thunder,  which  stormily  echoes  on  the  blaring 

brass. 

INCANTATION    OF    THE    THUNDER 

Donner 


1  The  classic  term  adopted  is  The  Dusk  of  the  Gods  (Gotter- 
dammerung)  ;  I  employ  the  word  Fall  here  for  the  purpose  of 
avoiding  in  the  rest  of  this  analysis  any  confusion  between  this 
Leit-motiv  and  the   Gotterdammerung  Day  of  the  Tetralogy. 


366 


THE    MUSIC    DRAMAS 


[This  theme  will  only  reappear  once,  in  the  Prelude  of 
Die  Walkiire.~\ 

After  the  passage  of  a  brief  storm,  there  quickly 
appears  the  radiant  and  serene  theme  of  The  Rainbow, 
tracing  its  beautiful  span  beneath  a  measured  and  spark- 
ling trill  of  the  violins,  flutes,  and  all  the  shrill 
instruments. 

THE    RAINBOW 


fe^  J       i 


p  do  tee 


[This  motiv  will  not  reappear  in  any  of  the  other  divisions.] 

T  he  motiv  of   Walhalla  accompanies  the   passage   of 
the    gods    across    the    celestial    bridge.      We    feel    that 


OF    RICHARD    WAGNER 


367 


Wotan's  brain  is  busy  with  the  idea  of  the  Ring  which  he 
has  had  to  gain,  and  then  relinquish  in  payment  for  his 
palace  ;  also  The  Rhine,  from  which  it  was  originally 
stolen,  and  the  necessity  for  creating  an  invincible 
means  for  his  defence,  thence  springs,  like  a  flash  of 
lightning,  the  thought  of  The  Sword  of  the  Gods,  the 
last  new  Leit-motiv  found  in  the  Prologue. 

THE    SWORD 


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The  Rhine-Daughters  are  heard  bewailing  their  stolen 
gold,  and  the  entry  into  Walhalla  takes  place  with  a 
pompous  reprise  of  the  theme  of  The  Rainbow. 

DIE    WALKURE. 

Scene  I.  —  The  Prelude  represents  a  storm  violently 
raging ;  with  roaring  blasts,  lightning  and  thunder  and 
torrents  of  rain,  several  times  The  Incantation  of  the 
Thunder,  combined  with  the  theme  of  The  Tempest  itself, 
is  heard  ;  it  is  one  of  the  most  beautiful  storms  that 
exist,  either  on  the  stage,  or  in  symphonic  composition. 


THE    TEMPEST 

*     *     *    $■ 


As  the  curtain  rises,  the  tempest  abates. 


368 


THE    MUSIC    DRAMAS 


Then  the  six  descending  notes  (B,  A,  G,  F,  E,  D)  of 
The  Tempest  motiv,  by  a  slight  rhythmical  modification, 
become  characteristic  of  Sieg/na  fid's  Fatigue  (a  fatigue 
partly  caused  by  the  tempest),  as  he  staggers  in,  buffeted 
and  pursued  by  the  storm. 


SIEGMUND'S    FATIGUE 
*  "*  St.* 


[This  fact  bears  a  certain  analogy  with  that  which  we  have 
already  noticed  in  the  transition  of  the  first  to  the  second  tableau 
in  Rheingold,  where  the  theme  of  Walballa  seems  to  arise  from 
that  of  The  Ring  which  paid  for  it.  Other  examples  of  the 
same  nature,  all  of  which  we  cannot  mention,  are  fairly  numer- 
ous in  this  work,  and  this  fusion  of  motive  always  logically 
springs  from  an  association  of  ideas.] 

This  first  motiv  almost  immediately  (shortly  after  Sieg- 
jinde's  entrance)  is  united  with  another  which  we  shall 
find  very  often  associated  with  it;  the  latter  personifies 
Sieglindc's  tender  sympathy  for  Siegmund,  and  has  been 
called  Compassion  : 

COMPASSION 


OF    RICHARD    WAGNKR 


3^9 


At  the  conclusion  of  a  fine  unaccompanied  violoncello 
passage,  which  is  taken  from  Siegmund1  s  Fatigue,  reappears 
the  motiv  of  Flight  which  we  have  already  seen  in  Rhein- 
gold,  where  it  has  quite  another  rhythm  and  was  com- 
bined with  Freia.  Here  it  is  united  with  a  new  theme, 
Love,  which  may  be  thus  explained  :  it  is  Flight  which 
has  brought  Siegmund  under  Sieglinde's  roof,  and  which 
consequently  is  primarily  responsible  for  their  Love. 


FLIGHT 


LOVE 


[Some  pages  farther  on,  the  theme  of  Love  will  precede 
Flight ;  it  will  then  signify  that  Love  in  its  turn  is  the  cause  of 
the  Flight  of  the  twins.] 

At  the  moment  when  Siegmund,  somewhat  refreshed 
and  already  about  to  depart,  at  Sieglinde's  instance  de- 
cides to  remain  under  her  roof,  we  hear  for  the  first  time 
one  of  the  themes  which  are  stamped  with  noble  sadness 
which  will  henceforth  represent  the  race  which,  although 
of  divine  origin,  is  so  profoundlv  unhappy  and  persecuted, 
The  11  iilsungs. 

24 


37° 


THE    MUSIC    DRAMAS 


THE    RACE    OF    THE    WALSUNGS 


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Associated  with  Compassion,  and  then  followed  by  Love, 
this  beautiful  theme  is  heard  twice  almost  consecutively 
before  Hunting  s  arrival. 

Scene  II.  —  The  theme  of  the  latter,  although  of 
noble  character,  by  its  violence,  its  harsh  rhythm  and 
rude  orchestration,  forms  a  startling  contrast  with  the 
preceding  one,  and  from  this  moment  the  characters  of 


HUNDING 


FIW 


the  two  men  are  clearly  defined  ;  in  proportion  as  Sieg- 
mund  is  dignified  and  resigned  in  suffering,  Hunding 
appears  violent,  implacable,  and  brutal.  The  whole 
dialogue  between  the  enemies  is  illustrated  by  these  two 
motive  alternating,  with  some  short  appearances  of  Love 
and  Compassion,  corresponding  to  a  word,  or  even  a  ges- 
ture, of  Sieglinde's,  also  The  Treaty,  The  Storm,  and  even 
[fulhalla,  according  to  the  former  events  to  which  the 
poem  alludes.  It  is  only  when  the  Walsung  ends  the 
story  of  his  misfortunes,  that  to  the  first  theme  of  The 


OF    RICHARD   WAGNER 


371 


Race  of  the  I!  alsungs  there  immediately  follows  and  is 
joined  a  second  theme  of  a  similar  sentiment  but  par- 
ticularly characterizing  The  Heroism  of  that  race  in  the 
sufferings  which  pursue  it. 

THE    HEROISM    OF    THE    WALSUNGS 


Before  the  close  of  the  scene,  when  Sieglinde  tries  to 
direct  her  guest's  attention  to  the  weapon  which  is  im- 
bedded in  the  ash,  we  twice  hear  the  mot'tv  of  The  Sword, 
immediately  followed  by  the  menace  of  Hunding. 

Scene  III. — This  scene,  one  of  the  most  affecting 
of  the  noble  work,  passes  with  the  aid  of  the  motive  we 
already  know,  to  which,  towards  the  end  of  Sieglinde's 
story,  is  added  a  startling  trumpet  passage  and  a  rich 
passage  for  the  violins,  which  remind  us  of  Weber,  and 
are  often  repeated,  but  only  in  this  scene.  Then  after 
a  gust  of  wind  which  is  represented  by  arpeggios  on  the 
harps,  a  gust  at  which  the  massive  door  suddenly  opens, 
there  appears  the  radiant  and  delicious  Hymn  to  Spring, 


Yi1 


Siegmund 


THE    MUSIC    DRAMAS 

HYMN    TO    SPRING 


which,  although  constituting  an  independent  figure,  may 
also  be  considered  as  a  Leit-motiv,  since  it  will  be  the  sub- 
ject of  many  suggestive  references  in  the  following  act. 

Shortly    afterwards,    in    company   with    the    motive  of 
Love,  Fre'ia,  goddess  of  Love,  and  Spring,  appears  Delight, 


Sieglinde 


DELIGHT 


OF    RICHARD    WAGNER 


373 


a  caressing  and  intoxicating  motiv  which  we  shall  meet 
with  again  in  the  Prelude  to  Scene  III.  in  Act  II. 
Siegmund  is  about  to  tear  out  the  sword;  then  appear 
the  motive  of  The  Wdlsungs,  Heroism,  The  Treaty,  The 
Sword,  and  the  terrible  formula  of  The  Renunciation  of 
Love,  and  on  a  powerful  development  of  the  latter  the 
Sword  of  the  Gods  is  in  Siegmund's  grasp  ;  at  this  precise 
moment  the  theme  of  The  Sword  reaches  its  greatest 
splendour,  and  the  act  ends  with  symphonic  combina- 
tions of  former  motive,  the  most  important  of  which  are 
Love,  Spring,  and  Flight,  and,  finally,  in  the  last  two 
chords,  Bondage. 


Act  II. 

Prelude. — This  Prelude  is  composed  of  the  most 
curious  mixture  of  themes  which  are  harsh,  or  made 
harsh  by  circumstances,  which  from  the  very  beginning 
gives  us  a  premonition  of  The  Ride  of  the  JValkyries, 
which,   however,   does   not   appear   till   the   end. 

In  the  opening  bar  we  recognize  The  Sword,  although 
quite  changed  in  rhvthm  and  kev  ;  then  follow  Flight, 
which  in  the  same  manner  is  merged  into  The  Shout  of 
the  JValkyries,  Delight,  and  then  the  final  burst,  The  Ride 
of  the  I  Valkyries. 


374 


THE    MUSIC    DRAMAS 


THE    RIDE    OF    THE    WALKYRIES 


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Scene  I.  —  The  strident  Shout  of  the  IValkyries;  with 
which  Briinnhilde  makes  her  first  appearance,  presents 
us  with  the  peculiarity,  which  is  perhaps  unique  in  Wag- 
ner's work,  of  a  phrase  of  18  bars,  complete  in  itself, 
ending  with  a  cadence  and  twice  repeated  almost  imme- 
diately afterwards  without  the  least  change  of  melody, 
harmony,  or  orchestration. 


THE    SHOUT    OF    THE    WALKYRIES 

Brunnhilde 


OF    RICHARD    WAGNER 


375 


The  entrance  of  Fricka,  which  immediately  follows, 
is  announced  by  the  two  notes  of  Bondage ;  her  discus- 
sion with  Wotan  affords  opportunity  for  repetitions  of 
Handing,  Love,  Spring,  The  Sword,  Flight,  The  Treaty, 
The  Ring,  The  Treaty  ivith  the  Giants,  which  subjects 
often  rise  to  the  surface,  either  in  their  speech,  or  in 
their  minds. 

When  Wotan   finds    himself  conquered   by  the  argu- 
ments and  persistence  of  the  virtuous  but  peevish  goddess," 
the  orchestra  introduces  us  to  a  new  figure  which  repre- 
sents Wotan  in  anger,  l-Votaris  Rage, 

WOTAN'S    RAGE 


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It  should  be  rem.  rked  that  t  -r  very  significant  form, 
which  will  be  very  frequently  used,  is  often  reduced  to 
its  first  two  notes,  resembling  those  of  Bondage,  which  is 
easily  explicable,  but  in  that  case  it  almost  always  pre- 
serves the  gruppetto  which  so  energetically  accents  the  first 
note,  and  gives  it  the  character  of  a  kind  of  rumble. 


37^ 


THE   MUSIC   DRAMAS 


Brunnhilde's  return  brings  back  The  Ride,  accompa- 
nied by  The  Shout;  after  which  Fricka  celebrates  the 
victory  which  she  has  just  gained  over  her  husband  with 
a  highly  expressive  phrase,  which  is  as  though  sealed  as 
a  pact  by  The  Treaty,  followed,  immediately  Fricka  has 
disappeared,  by  The  Curse  of  the  Ring,  and  JVotans  Rage, 
which  links  it  with  the  next  scene. 

Scene  II.  —  This  long  scene,  in  which  Wotan  is 
forced  to  confess  his  crimes  and  errors  to  his  daughter  as 
well  as  the  circumstances  which  led  him  to  commit  them, 
cannot  fail  to  bring  them  to  our  mind  by  means  of  the 
Leit-motiv e ;  we  find  Love,  The  Treaty,  Love's  Regret, 
The  Power  of  the  Ring,'  Walhalla,  The  Norm,  The  Ride, 
The  Ring,  and  The  Treaty  with  the  Giants.  Only  one 
new  figure  appears,  that  which  characterizes  The  Distress 
of  the  Gods;  then  return  The  Curse  of  the  Ring,  The  Sword, 

THE    DISTRESS    OF    THE    GODS 


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and  The  Nibelungs'  JVork  of  Destruction  ;  here  also  we  find 
that  strange  transformation  of  IValhalla  (mentioned  on 
p.  35  i),  which  reveals  the  edifice  in  ruins,  crumbling  away, 
and  appears  twice  at  an  interval  of  20  bars,  announcing 
the  fall  and  annihilation  of  the  race  of  the  Gods.  How- 
ever, the  dominating  tnotiv,  especially  at  the  beginning, 
is  that  of  Wotan's  Rage.  When  we  have  succeeded  in 
overcoming  the  painful  impression  caused  by  the  situation, 
this  scene,  notwithstanding  its  length,  stands  out  as  one 
of  the  finest  in  the  work  •,  but  it  is  also  one  of  the  most 
difficult  to  grasp  on  the  first  reading  or  hearing. 


OF    RICHARD    WAGNER 


377 


At  the  moment  when  Briinnhilde,  being  left  alone, 
gathers  up -her  arms,  we  should  note  the  theme  >f  //, 
Ride,  dulled  and  saddened  ;  immediately  afterwards  her 
thoughts  carry  her  away  to  The  Race  of  the  W'dlsungs, 
and  then  settle  on  11  'atari's  Rage  and  The  Distress  of  the 
Gods.      All  this  is  wonderfully  expressed. 

Scenk  III. — Siegmund  and  Sieglinde  come  in  flying 
before  the  pursuing  Hunding;  the  motiv  of  Flight,  pre- 
sented in  a  thousand  ways,  each  one  more  ingenious  than 
the  other,  does  all  the  work  of  the  scene  for  ten  pages 
or  so,  sometimes  accompanied  by  Love,  sometimes  by 
Delight.  After  a  recall  of  the  Heroism  of  the  Wdlsungi 
and  The  Sword,  Hunding  is  announced  by  the  rhythm  of 
his  motiv,  given  to  the  drums,  immediately  followed  by 
Pursuit  and  the  hoarse  cry  of  his  hounds. 


Sieglinde 


PURSUIT 


When  Sieglinde  falls  fainting  in  Siegmund's  arms, 
Love  returns   with   the   memory   of  Flight. 

Scene  IV.  —  Here  we  find  one  of  the  most  important 
scenes.  Briinnhilde  comes  to  announce  to  the  hero  that 
he  must  die.  The  orchestra  informs  us  that  Fate  has 
decided  the  Death  of  Siegmund,  and  that  he  is  to  go 
to    Walhalla. 


37! 


THE    MUSIC    DRAMAS 


The  two  following  motive,  which   are  intimately  con- 
nected, should  be  closely  examined  :   first  comes  Fate, 


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the  harmonization  of  which  is  almost  invariable,  and  the 
formula  of  which,  generally  twice  repeated,  separated  by 
rests,  rises  like  an  enigmatical  and  gloomy  note  of  in- 
terrogation ;  Death  is  evidently  derived  from  it,  since 
by  suppressing  the  first  three  notes  we  find  ourselves 
in  the  presence  of  the  double  formula  of  Fate. 

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These  new  motive,  mingled  with  those  of  Walhalla, 
of  /mV/,  of  77>*  ^/V/^,  of  Love  with  Flight,  of  IVotarfs 
Rage,  and  of  Love's  Regret  suffice  as  commentary  on  the 
action  while  Briinnhilde  describes  to  Siegmund,  who  is 
not  willing  to  leave  Sieglinde,  the  splendours  and  de- 
lights of  the  celestial  abode  ;  but  at  the  moment  when 
the  desperate  Walsung  raises  his  blade  above  his  sleeping 
wife,  we  hear  for  the  first  time,  though  in  a  still  vague 
form,  the  theme  of  Siegfried  Guardian  of  the  Sword  (Act 


OF    RICHARD    WAGNER 


379 


III.  Scene  I.),  which  informs  us  of  the  existence  of  the 
child  in  its  mother's  frame.  It  is  then  that  Briinn- 
hilde,  touched  with  tender  emotion  by  this  act  of  hero- 
ism, decides  to  transgress  the  divine  commands,  and  take 
Siegmund's  part,  a  decision  which  is  to  be  her  ruin  ;  it 
is  then  that,  with  a  marvellous  stroke  of  genius,  Wagner 
suddenly  transforms  the  motiv  of  Death  from  the  minor 
to  the  major,  changing  its  character  and  introducing  into 
it  the  rhythm  of  Flight ;  it  is  now  no  longer  Siegmund's 
death  which  is  decreed,  but  Hunding's.  From  this  mo- 
ment this  is  how  the  motiv  of  Death  is  transfigured  : 


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Briinnhilde  having  departed,  the  question  of  Fate  is 
again  asked,  combined  with  Wotan's  Rage  and  joined 
with   Love. 


380  THE    MUSIC   DRAMAS 

Scene  V.  —  Scene  V.  contains  no  new  motive. 

Although  very  short,  it  may  be  considered  as  divided 
into  tour  parts:  i,  Sicgmund's  farewell  to  the  sleeping 
Sieglinde  as  he  departs  for  the  combat;  2,  the  hostile 
pursuit  during  Sieglinde's  dream;  3,  the  combat,  with 
the  double  intervention  of  Briinnhilde  and  Wotan  ;  4, 
the  malediction  which  Wotan  launches  at  the  Walkyrie. 
During  the  first  part,  the  tender  motive  of  Love  and  Freia 
rule,  disturbed  by  those  of  Fate  and  Pursuit.  In  the 
second,  Hundings  savage  shout,  The  Sword  and  Pursuit, 
which  become  more  and  more  insistent.  (Here  and  there 
occur  flashes  of  lightning  similar  to  those  which  were 
seen  in  the  Hist  Prelude.)  —  In  the  third,  the  combat; 
in  a  few  seconds  we  hear  the  gallop  of  Brunnhilde's 
horse  as  she  comes  to  encourage  Siegmund  in  the  fight, 
The  Ride ;  then  comes  Wotan,  who,  forced  by  The 
Treaty,  shatters  The  Sword ;  the  death  of  Siegmund  is 
accompanied  by  four  sorrowful  recalls  of  Bondage,  fol- 
lowed by  The  Heroism  of  the  JVdlsungs,  Fate,  and  IVotarfs 
Rage;  finally,  Briinnhilde  lifts  the  unfortunate  Sieglinde 
upon  her  horse,  whence  we  have  a  return  of  The  Ride, 
and  then  Fate  again  and  again.  All  this  passes  ex- 
tremely quickly,  in  less  time  than  it  takes  to  tell.  —  In 
the  fourth  part  of  the  scene,  Wotan,  while  striking 
Hunding  dead  with  a  lightning  glance,  reflects  that  he 
has  loyally  fulfilled  his  promise  to  Fricka,  which  is  told 
to  us  by  means  of  The  Treaty,  which,  it  will  be  remem- 
bered, applies  to  every  pact  and  contract  of  any  kind 
whatsoever;  besides,  far  from  being  appeased,  the  Rage 
immediately  reappears,  and  Wotan,  breaking  out  into 
sudden  fury,  curses  the  disobedient  Walkyrie  and  devotes 
her  to  a  cruel  vengeance.  The  curtain  quickly  falls 
while  the  orchestra  recalls  to  us  The  Distress  of  the  Gods, 
as  well  as  various  episodes  of  the  act,  the  flashes  of  light- 


OF    RICHARD    WACNER 


38i 


ning  which   illuminated    it,  and    Pursuit,   which    appeals 
here  for  the  last  time. 

An    III. 

Prelude. —  The  Prelude  of  the  third  act  needs  no 
comment.  It  is  The  Ride  in  its  complete  development, 
with  its  sonorous  neighings  and  prancings,  its  wild  and 
exultant  cries,  its  indefatigable  activity,  its  shouts  and 
savage  laughter. 

Scene  I.  —  Throughout  the  first  part  of  this  scene 
while  the  key  of  G  minor  and  the  rhythm  of  |  reign,  it 
is  all  borrowed  from  The  Rule,  of  which,  to  tell  the 
truth,  it  is  only  the  continuation,  with  the  exception  of 
a  brief  allusion  to  JValhalla,  when  Rossueissc  asks  if  it 
is  time  to  go  there,  twenty-three  bars  before  the  ^!  in 
C  minor,  which  announces  Brunnhilde's  arrival.  There, 
although  its  rhythm  is  changed,  we  recognize  the  figure 
in  the  bass  of  The  Distress  of  the  Gods;  shortly  after- 
wards in  D  minor  it  is  the  song  of  Death  and  then 
Flight.  No  other  rhythm  appears  with  such  importance 
until  the  words  of  Schwertleite  describing  the  Dragon 
keeping  watch  over  the  Ring. 

In  the  I  by  Briinnhilde  appears  in  all  its  grandeur 
the   splendid  theme  of    Siegfried  Guardian  of  the  Sword, 

SIEGFRIED    GUARDIAN    OF    THE    SWORD 

Brunnhilde 


382 


THE    MUSIC    DRAMAS 


of  which  we  only  gained  a  glimpse  in  the  fourth  scene 
of  the  preceding  act,  immediately  followed  by  The 
Sword ;  then,  when  Sieglinde  speaks,  there  appears  the 
enthusiastic  and  sublime  motlv  of  The  Redemption  by 
Love. 

THE    REDEMPTION    BY    LOVE 
Sieglinde 

jCL. 


OF    RICHARD   WAGNER 


383 


[The  latter  will  only  appear  again  in  the  last  scene  of 
Gotterdammerung,  where  it  will  acquire  a  preponderating  im- 
portance, and  will  furnish  the  touching  crown  of  the  entire 
work.] 

Immediately  afterwards  The  Storm  reappears  with 
Bondage,  and  then  a  very  brief  ensemble  of  the  eight 
Walkyries  brings  the  scene  to  a  conclusion. 

Scene  II.  —  The  second  scene  (Wotan's  reprimands 
of  Briinnhilde  in  the  presence  of  her  sisters,  who  at 
hist  try  to  conceal  her,  and  then  to  defend  her),  is 
dramatically  impressive  enough  in  itself  to  dispense 
with  Leit-motive  ;  however,  after  a  time,  we  find,  fre- 
quently renewed,  Wotan's  Rag?,  then  Death,  superbly 
developed,  The  Treaty,  and,  finally,  at  the  moment  of 
the  departure  of  the  Walkyries,  The  Ride,  which  here 
resembles  a  rout,  and  from  which  a  broad  phrase 
detaches  itself  and  stands  out,  bearing  some  analogy 
with  Death. 

Scene  III.  —  The  beginning  of  the  scene  for  some 
considerable  time  makes  use  of  only  two  typical  motive, 
one  of  which  is  The  Rage,  which  we  know.  The 
other,  which  first  appears  in  the  fourth  bar  in  a  figure  on 
the  violoncello,  here  represents  poor  Briinnhilde's  sub- 
missive resignation  to  the  paternal  will,  which  is  about 
to  impose  on  her  a  new  life,  a  human  existence  : 


it  is  repeated  in  the  same  way  seven  bars  later,  and  then 
it  is  modified  in  the  I02d  bar,  this  time  on  the  violins  : 


3^4 


THE   MUSIC    DRAMAS 


It  must  be  regarded  as  a  preparatory  form,  a  sort  of 
leading  up  to  a  very  important  moth  which  will  shortly 
appear  on  the  arrival  of  the  key  of  E  major,  The 
Announcement  of  a  New  Life, 

THE    ANNOUNCEMENT    OF    A    NEW    LIFE 

Briinnhilde 


^Mf  JV  If  Jlylf ,  Jflj, 


S 


is 


tapPi 


hut  will  only  attain  its  fullest  expansion  in  the  sym- 
phonic part  which  precedes  Wotan's  farewell,  this  time 
in  i,  almost  at  the  end  of  the  act. 


OF    RICHARD    WAGNER 


385 


*  3 

From  this  moment  Leit-motive  occur  more  fre- 
quently :  Love's  Regret,  The  Curse  of  the  Ring,  Fate, 
The  Treaty,  Love,  The  Heroism  of  the  JVdlsungs,  Sieg- 
fried Guardian  of  the  Sword,  then  The  Sword;  finally, 
when  Wotan  utters  his  inflexible  doom,  we  hear  for  the 
first  time  the  mysterious  harmony  of  Eternal  Sleep 


Wotan 


ETERNAL    SLEEP 


fri^~i 


it 


^m 


f=if 


'*Vj.  H 


V— W- 


^ 


T 


-\<s 


$ 


W 


^Whn^- 


fwhich  will  frequently  reappear  at  the  end  of  this  work  and   in 
the  following  ones  without  being  applied  to  one  character   more 


386 


THE    MUSIC   DRAMAS 


than  another,  and  sometimes  accompanied  by  a  figure  borrowed 
from   The  Flames]. 


Here  we  hear  it  repeated  twice  in  succession  sepa- 
rated by  a  brief  reminiscence  of  Walhalla. 

Almost  immediately  we  have  several  premonitions,  at 
first  in  the  minor, 


of  the   striking  mot'iv    which   is    soon   to    become    The 
Sleep  of  the  J  Valkyrie  : 


BRUNNHILDE'S    SLEEP 


The  latter  now  assumes  more  and  more  importance  and 
brings  to  a  conclusion  the  second  division  of  the  Tetral- 
ogy, accompanied  by  the  leaping  of  the  flames  of  Loge: 


OF    RICHARD    WAGNER 


3«7 


But  first  occurs  the  affecting  scene  of  Wotan's 
Farewell  and  the  Fire  Incantation.  We  may  consider 
it  as  beginning  exactly  at  that  place  of  which  we  have 
already  spoken  when  the  motlv  of  The  Announcement  of 
a  New  Life  in  E  major  and  |  time  again  appears  in  its 
most  magnificent  and  dazzling  aspect,  rising  in  a 
splendid  crescendo,  and  majestically  bursting  forth  on 
a  chord  of  the  fourth  and  sixth  in  the  theme  of  Brunn- 
bilde's  Sleep. 

Then  Sleep  deepens,  the  minor  key  reappears,  and,  in 
a  beautiful  passage  (at  the  eighteenth  bar  of  the  minor), 
we  hear  the  phrase  which  is  properly  called  JVotarfs 
Song  of  Farewell,  full  of  tenderness  and  emotion,  which 
will  never  again  be  separated  from  the  figure  of  Sleep. 


WOTAN'S    SONG    OF    FAREWELL 
Wotan 


388 


THE   MUSIC    DRAMAS 


Next  comes  Fate,  The  Renunciation  of  Love,  then,  at 
the  moment  when  his  words  cease,  Eternal  Sleep,  during 
which  the  Walkyrie  falls  asleep  in  the  arms  of  the  god. 
And  while  he  lays  her  upon  the  rock,  places  her  weapons 
by  her  side,  and  covers  her  with  her  shield,  the  orchestra 
repeats  to  us  in  its  complete  development  that  touching 
phrase  of  the  Fareivell  Song,  with  the  caressing  inter- 
weavings  of  Sleep. 

Then  comes  the  Fire  Incantation.  Immediately  the 
motive  change.  First  comes  The  Treaty,  then  the 
chromatic  figure  of  Loge  •  and  again  The  Treaty,  this 
time  followed  by  The  Flames'  Spell.  These  two  motive 
(Loge  and  The  Flames'  »Syy//)  never  cease  to  pursue  each 
other  while  the  rock  is  being  surrounded  by  flames,  and 
serve  as  an  accompaniment  to  whatever  others  are  in- 
troduced until  the  fall  of  the  curtain.  Then  once  more 
appears  Eternal  Sleep,  in  the  arpeggio  form  which  we 
have  above  noticed  on  p.  (386),  and  then,  this  time  to 
last  until  the  end,  Briinnhilele's  Sleep,  becoming  increas- 
ingly placid  and  spell-bound. 

No  words  could  express  Wotan's  last  words  ;  they 
reproduce  in  its  entirety  and  majestically  amplified,  the 
beautiful  moth  of  Siegfried  Guardian  of  the  Szuord,  which 
is  immediately  repeated  by  the  orchestra,  which  con- 
cludes it   with   the  solemn   phrase  of  Wotan's  Farewell. 


OF   RICHARD    WAGNER  389 

Ten  bars  before  the  end,  during  Wotan's  last  look  at  his 
sleeping  daughter,  without  any  interruption  either  of 
Sleep,  or  of  the  leaping  of  the  Flames,  the  sinister  menace 
of  Fate  heavily  mutters;  then  there  is  a  great  peace,  and 
the  curtain  slowly  falls. 

SIEGFRIED 

Act  I. 

Prelude.  —  If  we  regard  the  Tetralogy  in  its  en- 
tirety as  a  kind  of  immense  symphony  conceived  in 
gigantic  proportions,  one  movement  of  which  answers  to 
each  day,  Siegfried  appears  as  its  Scherzo,  its  impetuous 
Intermezzo. 

Everything  in  it  is  gay,  agile,  and  alert,  like  the  youth- 
ful hero  himself;  even  the  comic  element  has  its  place 
here,  and  frequently  appears  in  the  role  of  Mime.  The 
majority  of  the  new  motive  present  rhythms  which  are 
vigorous  and  gay,  or  are  stamped  with  a  youthful  ardour 
which  is  very  contagious.  Here  also  musicians  will  find 
the  most  novel  harmonies,  —  the  most  daring,  if  the 
reader  prefers,  —  which  are  sometimes  difficult  to  ex- 
plain, and  among  them  the  most  amusing  combinations 
of  Lett-motive.  The  Siegfried  Day  is  one  of  repose 
and  freshness,  from  which  the  tragic  element  is  almost 
entirely  excluded,  to  the  great  relief  of  the  mind  and 
imagination,  only  to  reappear  in  a  still  more  poignant 
form  on  the  morrow. 

The  Prelude  is  constructed  on  themes  already  known  : 
first  Refection,  then  The  Amassing  of  the  Treasure,  inter- 
rupted by  a  brief  allusion  to  JFotans  Rage,  which  is 
quickly  transformed  into  Bondage,  The  Forge,  The  Nibel- 
ung's  Cry  of  Triumph,  The  Ring,  The  Sivord,  The 
Dragon,   with  a   modified   rhythm,  in    fact,   all   that   are 


r$y* 


39° 


THE    MUSIC    DRAMAS 


necessary  to  let  us  know  beforehand  that  we  are  in  the 
rude  Forge  in  which  the  crafty  Mime  labours,  scheming 
to  gain  in  his  turn  the  treasure  which  will  assure  to  him 
the  dominion  of  the  world. 

Scene  I.  —  The  same  motive,  or  others  equally  well- 
known,  supply  the  first  scene  until  the  arrival  of  Sieg- 
fried, which  is  joyously  announced  by  his  Call  of  the  Son 
of  the  Woods,  the  hunting-call  of  the  young  and  intrepid 
hero,  breathing  forth  freedom,  boldness,  and  good 
humour. 


CALL    OF    THE    SON    OF    THE    WOODS 


fffr^rJfliC£ftt;g 


[We  shall  find  it  in  this  same  §  time,  but  greatlv  developed 
in  the  key  of  F,  in  Scene  II.,  for  it  is  with  this  that  Siegfried 
defies  the  Dragon  ;  and  again,  at  the  beginning  of  the  third  act 
of  Gotterdammerung.~\ 

[Note  that  this  same  moth,  transformed  and  in  4-time,  will 
appear  on  other  occasions  in  the  Gotterdammerung,  where  it 
will  assume  a  specially  heroic  character,  and  lose  all  its 
joyousnes.] 


ItWIvp-1 

g      f— "f   f 

p          I*-     •f 

rff~ 

gj , 

1 

1 

P 

4A;  U  ...         ^^            1 

N      ■  also  the  curious  combination   of  this  motiv  with   those 
of    The  Flames  and  Eternal  Sleep  which   is  found   in   the   third 
il    Siegfried,  when  the  hero  is  about  to  pass   the   circle   of 
fire  in  which  the  Walkyric  is  sleeping.] 


OF    RICHARD   WAGNER 

The  Flames'  Spell 


Immediately  Siegfried,  at  two  successive  repetitions  of 
The  Guardian  of  the  Sword,  has  made  the  sword  which 
Mime  has  forged  Hv  into  splinters,  a  new  motiv  appears 
which  is  full  of  animation  ;  this  is  The  Love  of  Life, 
which  will  dominate  a  great  part  of  the  scene ;  it  must 
rather  be  regarded  as  the  exuberance  of  life,  the  joy  of 
living,  a  joy  which  is  almost  childlike  : 


Siegfried 


THE    LOVE    OF    LIFE 


392 


THE   MUSIC    DRAMAS 


B 


b± 


ff 


^ 


^ 


J»«  /. 


5^ 


^fr 


nrjijiii 


It  is  scarcely  interrupted  except  by  the  Whining  Com- 
plaint of  Mime  (|,-  F  minor),  who  begins  again  his 
story  to  Siegfried  for  the  tenth  time,  without  any  greater 
success  in  convincing  him  of  the  benefits  of  the  educa- 
tion which  he  has  given  him,  and  tries  to  appeal  to  his 
affection  by  his  false  solicitude.  Siegfried  is  not  in  the 
least  impressed,  and  prefers  to  speak  of  the  love  of 
children  for  their  mother,  which  he  himself  has  noticed, 
first  in  the  birds,  and  then  in  the  beasts,  which  leads 
him  to  imperiously  desire  to  know  the  name  of  his 
mother. 

The  whole  of  this  portion  flows  by  on  a  sweet  and 
caressing  melody  which  characterizes  the  ingenuous 
feeling  of  Filial  Love  as  he  conceives  it, 

FILIAL    LOVE 


CTKlrlS^M  jUL 


which  is  frequently  broken   into  by  tempestuous   returns 
of  the  complaint  of  his  education,  as  also  by  allusions  to 


OF    RICHARD    WAGNER 


393 


various  motive  of  The  If  "dhungs^  The  Forge,  and  The 
Sword,  the  appropriateness  of  which  is  always  most 
striking  :  he  speaks  of  having  seen  his  image  reflected  in 
the  water  (Siegfried  Guardian  of  the  Sword  ) ;  what  water 
was  this  ?  {The  Rhine}  ;  the  story  of  his  birth  is  accom- 
panied by  The  Race  of  the  II  alsungs,  Compassion,  and 
Love ;   the  whole  surrounded  by   The  Love  of  Life. 

When  at  last  he  knows  his  origin,  an  intense  desire 
arises  in  his  heart  to  leave  forever  the  tutelage  of  the 
obnoxious  dwarf,  which  is  marvellously  expressed  in  an 
independent  phrase  in  ^,  towards  the  end  of  which  we 
meet  with  the  following  three  bars,  which  various  com- 
mentators call  by  the  name  of  Wandering  Siegfried, 
Travel  Song,  and  Desire  to  Travel.  We  shall  make  use 
of  the  last  name. 


DESIRE    TO    TRAVEL 


i 


w 


±a 


!■=♦ 


mm 


$ 


L.  n  i    uj — n 


^^ 


^^ 


31^ 


^F 


[This  same  motiv  will  be  found  expressing  the  same  feeling 
in  the  Prologue  to  Gbtterdammerung,  when  Siegfried  is  about  to 
leave  Briinnhilde  to  seek  new  adventures,  then  again  in  Act  I. 
Scene  II.  in  the  dialogue  with  Gunther.] 

The  Ring,  The  Forge,  Reflection,  The  Dragon,  and 
Love's  Regret  connect  this  scene  with  the  following  one. 

Scene  II.  —  Coinciding  with  the  entrance  of  Wota.i 
under  the  form  of  The  Wanderer,  there  appears  the 
powerful     and      mysterious      harmony     of      llotan     the 


394 


THE    MUSIC    DRAMAS 


Wanderer,  or  Wot  an 's  Journey,  which  is  divided  into 
two  parts,  one  strange  and  chromatic,  the  other  entirely 
diatonic  and  of  a  placid  solemnity,  which  will  be  subse- 
quently used  separately,  but  only  in  Siegfried. 


WOTAN    THE    WANDERER 


Mime 


The  way  in  which  the  music  of  this  curious  scene,  so 
curious  from  all  points  of  view,  is  managed,  is  worthy 
of  close  attention  and  examination. 

At  first  it  is  with  the  theme  of  The  Treaty  that  the 
god  forces  the  gnome  to  accept  the  singular  wager,  the 
stake  of  which  is  the  head  of  one  of  them  ;  and,  after 
malicious  Reflection,  it  is  with  the  same  nwtiv  that  the 
dwarf  accepts  the  challenge ;  we  feel  that  he  means  to 
be  tricky  in  his  turn,  and  carrv  it  off"  bravely. 


OP^    RICHARD    WAGNER 


395 


Then,  every  time-  Mime  is  searching  his  mind  for 
questions  to  put,  his  search  is  accompanied  by  sounds  of 
The  Forge  and  of  the  moth  of  Reflection,  to  which  are 
joined,  but  only  the  first  time,  The  Treaty,  which  binds 
him,  and  The  Ring,  the  object  of  his  covetousness. 

His  first  question  refers  to  "the  race  which  lives  in 
the  bowels  of  the  earth."  Wotan's  reply  is  annotated 
by  all  the  motive  of  the  Nibelungs,  The  Forge,  The  Ring, 
Alberich's  Potuer,  Adoration  of  the  Cold,  The  Ni belting's 
Cry  of  Triumph,  Amassing  of  the  Treasure,  and  finally 
The  Treaty. 

His  second  question  deals  with  "  that  other  race  which 
lives  on  the  surface  of  the  earth."  Immediately,  with 
reply  appear  the  motive  of  The  Giants,  The  Power  of  the 
Ring,  The  Dragon,  and  still  The  Treaty. 

His  third  question  concerns  "  the  race  which  hovers 
above  the  peaks,  among  the  clouds."  Then  JValhalla 
is  unfolded  in  all  its  splendour,  followed  by  an  allusion 
to  the  defeated  Alberich  and  The  Ring.  However,  in 
the  course  of  this  victorious  reply  of  the  wandering  god, 
there  appears  a  new  theme  of  majestic  character, — 
[which,  considerably  modified  and  enlarged,  will  assume  great 
importance  in  the  Gbtterdammerung  Day  :] 

it  is  that  of  Divine  Power,  only  the  first  half  of  which   I 

give  here, 

„.    ...     .  DIVINE    POWER 

The  Wanderer 


396 


THE    MUSIC    DRAMAS 


and  which  ends,  as  may  be  seen  in  the  score,  with  a 
long  descending  scale  which  has  nothing  triumphant  left 
in  it. 

II 'Ami  the  II  anderer  has  fulfilled  his  part  of  The  Treaty 
which  was  concluded;  the  orchestra  joins  him  in  so 
stating.  It  is  now  his  turn  to  question,  and  Mime 
must  reply.  Immediately  there  is  a  cringing  and  humble 
figure,  which  throughout  this  second  half  of  the  scene, 
the  counterpart  of  the  first,  depicts  the  piteous  attitude  of 
the  malicious  Nibelung,  now  that  it  is  Wotan's  turn  to 
ask  him  questions. 

[It  only  appears  afterwards  in  Act  II.  Scene  III.,  shortly 
before  Mime's  death.] 

Here  is  one  of  its  forms.  Let  us  call  it  Grovelling 
Afime,  as  it  does  not  apply  to  any  other  character. 


Mime 


GROVELLING    MIME 


rnrn 


ftM;l'-f     >T 


mm 


^ 


m 


* 


^E 


BE 


^=F 


T 


r 


Before  his  cross-questioning  begins,  Mime  seeks  a  pre- 
text to  evade  it;  he  says  he  has  dwelt  apart  so  long  in 
his  Forge  that  he  no  longer  knows  anything  at  all:  for  he 
has  recognized  Wotan  in  The  Wanderer,  as  we  learn 
from  a  brief  reminiscence  of  Walhalla;  however,  he  has 
to  bow  his  head  beneath  Bondage,  and  therefore  he  will 
reply. 


OF    RICHARD    WAGNER  397 

In   the   first  place,   Wotan   asks  him   what  he   knows 
about  "the  heroic  race  to  whom  he  appears  to  be  cruel.' 
Mime's    reply    is  accompanied    by   all  the  motive  of  the 
Wdlsungs,  their  Race,  their   Heroism,  and  even   Siegfried 
Guardian  of  the  Sword. 

Secondly,  he  wishes  to  know  "  what  steel  most  the 
youth  brandish  to  conquer  the  Ring  by  overthrowing  the 
Dragon."  Here  the  sole  motiv  which  mingles  with  those 
of  Grovelling  Mhne  and  The  Forge,  is  The  Sword,  the 
sword   of  the  gods. 

Thirdly  and  finally,  he  must  tell  "  who  will  be  able  to 
forge  again  the  shattered  blade."  It  is  then  that  Mime 
is  lost,  for  he  does  not  know  that  Siegfried  is  the  one  ; 
but  the  orchestra  makes  us  know  it  by  the  persistent  re- 
turn of  the  Love  of  Life,  which  leaves  no  possible  doubt 
as  to  the  personality  of  the  hero. 

Wotan  is  about  to  depart.  The  strange  and  solemn 
harmony  which  introduced  him,  IVotan  the  Wanderer, 
reappears,  soon  to  give  way  to  The  Sword,  The  Treaty, 
and  The  Dragon,  when  the  victorious  god  devotes  the 
head  of  the  vanquished  to  him  who  has  never  known 
fear,  to  him  who  shall  slay  the  Dragon,  otherwise  called 
Siegfried  Guardian  of  the  Sword. 

The  mocking  hisses  of  Log e  are  heard  beneath  Wotan's 
last  words,  and  continue  during-  a  considerable  part  of 
the  succeeding  scene. 

Scene  III.  —  Although  greatly  developed  and  of  ab- 
sorbing interest,  this  may  be  quickly  analyzed. 

Mime,  being  left  alone,  is  at  first  terrified  by  the 
crackling  of  the  flames  of  Loge ;  Siegfried  returns,  and 
with  him  the  gay  motive  of  Desire  to  Travel  and  Love  of 
Life;  and  then,  accompanying  in  the  most  witty  manner 
every  phrase  and  almost  every  word  of  the  dialogue,  we 
successively  recogni/.e  The  Dragon,  The  Sword,  Bondage, 


39« 


THE    MUSIC    DRAMAS 


Wot  an  the  Wanderer,  The  Guardian  of  the  Sword,  Love  of 
Life,  The  Raee  of  the  Wdlsungs,  I.oge,  The  Flames'  Spell, 
Eternal  Sleep,  Brunnhilde's  Sleep,  and  Call  of  the  Son  of 
the  Woods.  In  the  meanwhile,  Siegfried  thinks  of  noth- 
ing but  of  forging  for  himself  a  sword  with  the  fragment 
which  Mime  has  given  him.  He  sets  to  work  and.  while 
filing  the  steel  and  blowing  up  the  fire,  he  gaily  sings  a 
joyous  song  of  three  couplets,  the  third  with  graceful 
variations,  the  accompaniment  of  which  imitates  the 
blowing  of  the  bellows  of  the  forge,  just  as  before  we 
heard  the  scraping  of  the  file  :  let  us  call  it  The  Song  of 
the  Bellows  to  distinguish  it  from  another  which  closely 
follows  it.  (Mime,  in  one  corner,  is  surreptitiously  pre- 
paring a  poisoned  draught  with  which  he  purposes  to 
plunge  Siegfried  into  Eternal  Sleep,  and  which  will  allow 
him  basely  to  seize  the  sword  which  has  been  so  valiantly 
restored,  after  Siegfried  shall  have  conquered  the  Gold 
and  The  Ring  to  Mime's  profit).  Shortly  after  Siegfried 
has  tempered  the  metal  by  plunging  it  in  a  tank  of  water, 
which  gives  occasion  for  a  curious  effect  of  imitative 
sound,  appears  the  sole  new  theme  of  this  scene,  which 
is  generally  called  The  Casting  of  the  Steel,  which  mingles 


THE    CASTING    OF    THE    STEEL 

Siegfried 


OF    RICHARD    WAGNER 


399 


i 


muff 


ptu  p 


mm 


with  a  kind  of  reprise  of  The  Song  of  the  Bellows  in  the 
major. 

Here  we  find  a  new  song,  The  Song  of  the  Forge, 
the  rhythm  of  which  is  accented  by  blows  of  the  hammer 
on  the  anvil,  forming  a  marvellously  faithful  imitation  ; 
it  has  only  two  couplets,  which  are  separated  by  a  reply 
of  Mime's,  who  is  still  engaged  in  his  iniquitous  opera- 
tions. 

The  second  couplet  is  scarcely  finished  when  Siegfried 
again  plunges  the  still  glowing  blade  into  the  water  and 
amuses  himself  with  the  noise  that  it  makes  as  it  cools. 

Lastly,  while  he  finishes  the  work,  fixes  it  in  its  hilt, 
and  hammers  it  for  the  last  time,  we  recognize  the  motive 
of  The  Forge,  Grovelling  Mime,  The  Casting  of  the  Steel, 
and  The  Sword,  with  curious  rhythms  of  two  or  three 
bars,  and  finally,  when  Siegfried  cleaves  the  anvil  while 
trying  the  temper  of  his  sword,  there  breaks  out  the  motiv 
of  The  Son  of  the  IVoods,  which  joyously  ends  the  act. 

Act  II. 

Scene  I. — The  Prelude,  which  is  intimately  con- 
nected with  the  first  scene,  first  makes  us  hear  the  hoarse 
growling  of  Fafner,  the  survivor  of  the  two  Giants  of 
the  Prologue,  who  is  changed  into  a  Dragon  and  jealously 


400 


THE   MUSIC    DRAMAS 


watches  over  his  treasure  and  his  Ring  (I  would  remind 
the  reader  that  this  mottv  of  Fafner  is  none  other  than  a 
transformation  of  that  of  The  Giants,  the  lowest  note  of 
which  is  now  half  a  tone  lower). 


FAFNER 


Towards  the  middle  breaks  out  The  Curse  of  the  Ring, 
which  is  closely  followed  by  the  rhythm  of  The  Nibe- 
lungs'  IVork  of  Destruction  and  The  Nibelung's  Cry  of 
Triumph.      Alberich  is  present. 

To  these  motive  are  added,  shortly  after  the  rising  of 
the*  curtain,  a  figure  of  The  Ride  of  the  Walkyries,  and 
the  theme  of  The  Distress  of  the  Gods,  announcing  the 
arrival  of  the  wandering  god,  who  is  saluted  by  J  Val- 
halla. 

The  malicious  gnome's  attitude  of  mind  towards  the 
god,  whose  not  verv  gentle  dealings  he  has  not  forgotten, 
is  manifested  by  a  new  motiv,  Revenge,  which  is  only  of 
secondary  importance. 

REVENGE 


rw,-pr  -jtf_ j| 


OF    RICHARD    WAGNER 


401 


[It   will,   however,   reappear  in    Gotterdammerung,   Act  Tt. 
Scenes  IV.  and  V.,  under  a  more  striking  form. J 


Farther  on  we  find  the  themes  of  JVotan  the  JVanderer, 
fVotan's  Rage,  The  'Treaty  with  the  Giants,  Loge,  The  Curse 
of  the  Ring,  and  others  which  are  easily  recognized.  Faf- 
ner's  few  words  to  Wotan  are  accented  by  his  own  theme, 
with  which  is  curiously  united,  for  a  moment,  The  Sword, 
which  seems  to  menace  The  Ring.  Then  we  recognize 
The  Norns  and  The  Desire  to  Travel;  and,  at  the  moment 
of  Wotan's  departure,  The  Ride  reappears  with  a  memory 
of  JVotan  s  Song  of  Farewell,  immediately  followed  by  The 
Curse  of  the  Ring,  twice  repeated,  with  the  rhythm  of 
Destruction,  and  the  scene  ends  as  it  began,  with  the  ihotiv 
of  Fafner,  sinister  and  menacing. 

Scene  II. — Siegfried,  conducted  by  Mime,  arrives; 
The  Love  of  Life  and  the  joyous  beginning  of  the  varied 
strophe  of  the  Bellows  Song  escorts  them  with  some 
rhvthms  of  The  Forge  and  a  slight  reminiscence  of 
Briinnhilde's  Sleep.  Mime,  being  desirous  of  inspiring 
his  pupil  with  fear,  borrows  some  chromatic  features 
from  Loge  ;  we  hear  Fafner  roar,  to  which  Siegfried  an- 
swers with  The  Heroism  of  the  JValsungs ;  then  The  Love 
of  Life  is  also  briefly  recalled. 

Mime  having  gone  away,  or  rather  hidden  himself, 
Siegfried  remains  alone  on  the  stage.  Then  begins, 
properly  speaking,  with  figures  of  semiquavers  (|,  in  E 
major),  the   delightful    idyl    called    The  Murmurs   of  the 

26 


402 


THE    MUSIC    DRAMAS 


Forest,  which  has  already  been  announced  in  the  preced- 
ing pages. 

Through  these  sweet  and  gentle  sounds  we  perceive 
the  ideas  which  are  thronging  into  the  soul  of  the  young 
hero;  he  first  thinks  of  The  Race  of  the  W'ahungs,  then 
of  his  mother,  as  we  learn  from  Filial  Love,  which  leads 
him  to  understand  the  beauty  of  Love,  here  represented 
by  the  theme  of  Fre'ia.  But  his  attention  is  soon 
attracted  by  the  song  of  a  bird,  which  is  hopping  and 
warbling  in  the  branches  above  him  ;  here  are  some 
fragments  of  this  delightful   song  of  The  Bird. 

THE    BIRD 

A 


f^urJin,     ,jf,V  ,  ,rlf 


The  Bird .^ 


[It  is  well  to  know  that  each 
of  the  above  fragments  will  here- 
after have  a  precise  signification. 
To  give  only  one  example,  the 
third,  by  which  the  bird  will  re- 
veal to  Siegfried  the  existence  of 
the  sleeping  Walkyrie,  is  identical 
with  Brunnbilde's  Sleep,  which 
itself  is  only  a  transposition,  with  certain  rhythmical  modifications, 
of  the  Rhine-Daughters. ,] 


OF    RICHARD    WAGNER 


403 


[From  this  time  on,  we  shall  find  perpetual  allusions  to  and 
quotations  from  this  Song  of  the  Bird,  some  of  considerable  ex- 
tent and  forcibly  commanding  the  attention,  others  consisting 
only  of  a  few  notes  ;  an  example  of  the  latter  will  be  found  in 
the  instrumental  interlude  while  Siegfried  is  passing  through  the 
flames  (Act  III.  at  the  end  of  Scene  II.).  Here  four  motive 
are  in  conjunction.] 


Adoration  of  the  Gold 


The  Bird 


rrrn  mm 


The  Son  of  the  Woods 

J" 


fwp  pmj^p  m 


Now,  Siegfried,  having  listened  to  the  Bird,  first  tries 
to  imitate  it  by  means  of  a  rustic  pipe,  which  he  has  cut 
with  his  Sword;  this  furnishes  an  amusing  incident. 
Not  being  successful,  he  puts  his  horn  to  his  lips  and 
sounds  his  joyous  call,  The  Call  of  the  Son  of  the  /foods, 
to  which  he  adds,  as  if  to  make  himself  better  known, 
Siegfried  Guardian  of  the   Sword. 


4o4  THE    MUSIC    DRAMAS 

He  receives  his  answer  from  the  frightful  jaws  of  The 
Dragon  ;  it  is  Fafner  who  is  coming  out  of  his  cave  to 
give  battle  to  his  challenger.  The  combat  takes  place  ; 
The  Sword  reaches  his  heart ;  Fafner  is  dying.  But, 
before  thing,  he  retraces  his  history,  on  which  the 
orchestra  comments  by  means  of  several  appropriate 
Leit-motive  :  The  Work  of  Destruction,  The  Curse  of  the 
Ring,  The  Guardian  of  the  Sword,  his  conqueror,  The 
Giants,  The  Ring,  The  Dragon,  The  Son  of  the  Woods, 
and,  finally,  Fafner  dies,  on  a  stroke  of  the  drum,  at 
the  second  beat  of  the  bar. 

A  brilliant  flourish  of  The  Son  of  the  Woods  celebrates 
this  first  victory,  and  then  there  immediately  rise  again 
The  Murmurs  of  the  Forest.  But  this  time  the  language 
of  The  Bird  has  become  intelligible  to  the  young  warrior, 
because  he  has  tasted  the  blood  of  the  Dragon  (  ?)  ;  and 
also  to  us,  but  for  another  reason  :  because  it  is  given  to 
the  soprano. 

Scene  III.  —  The  third  scene,  notwithstanding  its 
great  development  and  complexity,  does  not  introduce  us 
to  any  new  motiv ;  we  have  therefore  only  to  look  for 
those  which  we  already  know.  To  make  it  clearer,  let 
us  consider  it  as  if  it  were  divided  into  four  parts. 

In  the  first  (the  dialogue  between  Mime  and  Alberich), 
the  sole  motive,  lightlv  sketched,  are  :  The  Power  of  the 
Helm,  The  Forge,  and  The  Nibelung's  Cry  of  Triumph. 

In  the  second  (as  Siegfried  issues  from  the  cavern) 
appear  :  The  Ring,  The  Adoration  of  the  Gold,  The  Gold, 
and  then  again  The  Murmurs  of  the  Forest^  which  is  soon 
associated  with  The  Race  of  the  Wdhungs. 

In  the  third  (when  Mime-  obsequiously  approaches 
Siegfried),  first  conn-  The  Bird  and  The  Casting  of 
the  Steel;  then,  farther  on,  the  Whining  Complaint, 
whose    deceitful    tone    belies    the    words;    at    the    mo- 


OF    RICHARD    WAGNER  405 

ment  of  Mime's  death,  note  the  singular  succession  of 
descending  and  discordant  thirds,  borrowed  from  Reflec- 
tion, which,  joined  with  Alberich's  mocking  laughter 
(77?!?  Forge),  forms  a  funeral  oration  which  is  somewhat 
pitiful,  but,  at  the  same  time,  quite  good  enough  for  him. 
In  the  fourth  part  (which  extends  from  there  to  the 
end  of  the  scene)  reappear  The  Curse  of  the  Ring,  The 
Forge,  when  Siegfried  casts  Mime's  corpse  into  the  cave; 
Fafner,  when  he  rolls  the  Dragon  s  body  into  it  ;  then 
The  Ring,  and,  followed  by  a  recall  of  The  Bird,  comes 
the  song  of  Filial  Love,  which,  with  certain  reminis- 
cences of  The  Forge,  leads  us  to  a  final  return  of  The 
Murmurs  of  the  Forest.  This  time  The  Bird  proposes  to 
Siegfried  to  lead  him  to  the  Walkyrie  who  is  asleep  in 
the  heart  of  a  circle  of  flames  (p.  402)  ;  thus  the  last 
motive  of  this  act  are  :  The  Flames'  Spell,  Siegfried  Guar- 
dian of  the  Sword,  Britnnhilde's  Sleep,  and,  dominating 
them  all,  the  warbling  of  The  Bird,  which  does  not  cease 
until  the  final  chord. 


Act  III. 

Prelude.  —  A  persistent  rhythm  of  The  Ride  fore- 
warns us  of  the  approach  of  Wotan.  At  the  same  time 
appears  an  imposing  ascending  figure  from  the  bass,  in 
which  we  recogni/oe  The  Morns,  or  The  Distress  of  the 
Gods,  or  again,  as  it  passes  into  the  major,  The  Rhine, 
which  are  all  closely  related,  both  in  their  contexture 
and  symbolic  meaning,  and  the  presence  of  anv  one  of 
which  in  this  place  is  equally  explicable.  JVotarCs  Race, 
The  Fall  of  the  Gods,  and  Alberich's  Power,  appear  here 
and   there,  and   the   Prelude    is    merged    into 

Scene   I.    by  the    mysterious   and    solemn    music    of 
Eternal    Sleep,   to    which    succeed    without    interruption 


4-o6 


THE    MUSIC    DRAMAS 


Fate,  The  Treaty,  and,  just  before  the  Wanderer's  first 
words,  The  Announcement  of  a  New  Life. 

The  same  motive  accompany  Wotan's  monologue  and 
evocation  of  Erda,  with  a  recall  of  Wotan  the  Wanderer; 
they  also  chiefly  rule  in  Erda's  reply  and  dialogue  with 
Wotan,  during  which  in  addition  there  reappear  The 
Ring,  Love's  Regret,  Walhalla,  The  Ni  be  lungs'  I  Fork  of 
Destruction,  Motrin's  Song  of  Farewell,  and  several  other 
motive  which  are  merely   indicated. 

It  is  only  at  the  end  of  this  scene,  which  is  one  of  the 
most  admirable  of  the  whole  Tetralogy,  that  a  new  theme 
appears,  The  Heritage  of  the  World,  that  world  over  which 


THE    HERITAGE    OF    THE    WORLD 


Wotan,  foreseeing  and  desiring  the  end  of  the  gods,  does 
not  mean  to  reign  any  longer,  and  which  he  bequeaths 
to  his  son,  the  triumphant  Wiilsung,  therefore  this  motiv, 
which  appears  several  times  before  Erda  vanishes,  is  es- 
corted by  all  those  which  most  closely  relate  to  the  young 
hero  :  Siegfried  Guardian  of  the  Sivord,  The  Sword,  Jl  al- 
halla,  The  Power  of  the  Ring,  Flight,  and  Love  ;  when  Erda 
sinks  into  the  earth  four  beautiful  chords  tell  us  that  she 
has  again  fallen  into  her  Eternal  Sleep. 

Si  ink  II.  —  Guided  by  The  Bird,  Siegfried  approaches, 
Sword  in  hand.  Wotan  bars  hi>  way  and  forces  him  to 
tell  him  the  purpose  of  the  journey,  as  well  as  the  reasons 
which  led  him  to  undertake  it. 


OF    RICHARD    WAGNER  407 

Hence  arise  frequent  orchestral  allusions  to  The  Bird 
wh'ch  has  guided  him,  to  Fafner  whose  blood  lu>  given 
him  the  power  of  comprehending  the  song  of  birds;  to 
The  Forge  where  he  was  reared ;  to  The  Race  of  the 
Wdlsungs  from  which  he  sprang;  and  to  The  Love  of 
Life  which  animates  him  ;  The  Wanderer's  words,  on 
the  contrary,  are  supported  bv  Wotan  the  Wanderer, 
Walhalla,  Wotan's  Rage,  and  later  The  Treaty,  by 
chromatic  figures  of  Loge,  by  The  Flames'  Spell,  The 
Ride,  and  Eternal  Sleep,  when  he  declares  himself  the 
guardian  of  the  rock  where  sleeps  the  Walkyrie ;  to 
these  motive  Siegfried,  constantly  inspired  b\  the  remem- 
brance of  The  Bird,  opposes  his  own,  The  Guardian  of 
tl.<e  Sword,  and  The  Race  of  the  II  alsungs,  and  then,  at 
last,  with  a  single  stroke,  the  Sword  shatters  the  god's 
lance.  Then  gloomily  appear  The  Treaty,  The  Fall  of 
the  Gods,  and  Love's  Regret,  constantly  mingled  with  the 
joyous  warblings  of  The  Bird,  and  Siegfried  springs 
through  the  flames,  accompanied  bv  the  marvellous  com- 
bination of  typical  themes  which  we  have  already  men- 
tioned (p.  403),  and  in  which  we  find  simultaneously 
The  Call  of  the  Sou  of  the  Hoods,  The  Flames'  Spell,  Sieg- 
fried Guardian  of  the  Sword,  The  Adoration  of  the  Gold, 
The  Bird,  !.■:, ,  ami,  several  bars  farther  on,  Eternal  Sleep, 
and  Brunnhilde's  Sleep.  All  this  procession  of  Leit- 
motive  takes  place  while  a  curtain  of  flame  and  fiery 
vapours   hides    from    view   the    changing   of  the   scenery. 

Sc  ink  III.  —  The  vapours  dissipate  while  the  motive 
of  Brunnhilde's  Sleep  and  Fate  are  passing,  followed  bv  a 
brilliant  figure  on  the  violins  alone,  in  which  we  plainly 
recognize  the  features  of  Frela,  the  goddess  of  love. 
Then    Fate,    The   Adoration   of  the    Gold,   and    The   Bird. 

Whilst  Siegfried  is  contemplating  the  motionless 
Walkyrie,   we  hear,  at   first    very    faintly,  the   motiv   of 


4c8 


THE    MUSIC    DRAMAS 


Love's  Fascination,  which  we  have  not  had  to  mention 
since  the  second  scene  of  Rheingold,  and  which  therefore 
renders  its  employment  particularly  expressive.  We 
find  Briinnhilde  again  as  though  still  encircled  with  the 
motive  in  the  midst  of  which  we  left  her,  The  Ride  and 
JVotan's  Song  of  Farewell,  which  is  given  in  its  entirety  ; 
with  several  gentle  strokes  of  his  Sword,  Siegfried  cuts 
the  thongs  of  her  cuirass ;  Love's  Fascination  gathers  im- 
portance. The  memory  of  The  Race  of  the  IFalsungs 
is  evoked,  and  necessarily  Briinnhilde's  Sleep  often  re- 
appears, accompanied  by  the  seductive  form  of  Fre'ia, 
which  is  interrupted  in  a  sinister  manner  by  the  question 
of  Fate,  but  the  delicate  interlacings  of  which  graciously 
announce  the  awakening  of  the  fallen  divinity. 

This  awakening  occurs  upon  the  clear  and  luminous 
chords  of  Hail  to  the  JVorld,  which  gloriously  glitters, 
twice  repeated,  and  each  time  followed  by  sonorous  ar- 
peggios, and   then    brilliant   scintillations    on  the   harps, 


HAIL    TO    THE    WORLD 


vv    fyWw~-    fdi"l 


OF    RICHARD    WAGNER 


409 


developing  into  a  broad  phrase  in  which  a  long  passage 
of  thirds  and  a  prolonged  trill  give  it  quite  an  Italian 
character.  It  is  on  this  salutation  that  Brunnhilde  pro- 
nounces her  first  words  ;  but  when  she  comes  to  ask.  the 
name  of  the  hero  who  has  awakened  her  she  betrays  her 
inmost  thought  and  her  desire,  for  her  declamation  bor- 
rows the  very  notes  with  which  Wotan  left  her,  after 
having  put  her  to  sleep  upon  her  rock  in  the  third  act 
of  Die  JValkure,  which  are  none  other  than  those  of 
Siegfried  Guardian  of  the  Sword. 

Siegfried,  in  his  turn,  radiantly  sings  his  Hail  to  Love, 
which  is  full  of  youthful  ardour  and  enthusiasm,  ending, 
like  Briinnhilde's  Hail  to  the  World,  with  the  phrase  in 
thirds  above  mentioned,  which  appeals  still  more  Italian 
now  that  it  is  suntr  as  a  Duet  by  the  two  voices. 


Siegfried 


HAIL    TO    LOVE 


4io 


THE  MUSIC     DRAMAS 


Immediately  after  the  two  holds  and  the  trill  which 
end  this  portion,  the  basses  vigorously  attack  the  theme 
of  The  Race  of  the  IVdlsungs ,  which  is  jovously  answered 
by   the   new   motiv    of   The   Enthusiasm    of  Love,   which 


THE    ENTHUSIASM    OF    LOVE 


again  is  composed  of  a  succession  of  thirds  and  sixths, 
an  occurrence  sufficiently  rare  in  Wagner  to  deserve 
special  notice. 

The  Heritage  of  the  World  next  appears,  several  times 
in  different  keys,  but  now  in  |,  which  slightly  relieves 
its  solemnity. 

Mingling  with  it,  according  to  the  course  of  the  dia- 
logue, we  shall  recognize  in  particular  The  Enthusiasm 
of  Love,  Hail  to  Love,  The  Announcement  of  a  New  Life,  a 
reminiscence  of  IVotarts  Rage,  and  The  Ride,  and  then 
/  ■  i    Curse  of  the  Ring,  and   Bondage ;   when   the   key  of 


OF    RICHARD    WAGNER 


411 


E  major  arrives,  we  are  introduced  to  two  themes  which 
are  almost  one,  the  second  being  the  complement  of  the 
first.      First  it  is  Peace,  a  motiv  of  sweet  and  placid  seren- 

PEACE 


ity,  which  is  employed  only  in  this  scene  into  which  it 
introduces  an  element  of  calmness  and  freshness  ;  then, 
20  bars  farther  on,  equally  tender,  but  more  passionate 
comes  Siegfried  Treasure  of  the  World,  which  we  shall 
find  twice  again  in  Gotterd'dmmerung. 

The  peaceful  motive  during  the  rest  of  the  love-duet 
which  forms  this  scene  arc  next  associated  with  most  of 
the  motive  we  have  already  mentioned,  to  which  must  be 


412 


THE    MUSIC    DRAMAS 


SIEGFRIED    TREASURE    OF    THE    WORLD 

Brunnhilde 


added  Fate,  Brunnhilde' s  Sleep,  The  Dragon,  The  Ride, 
which  makes  only  brief  appearances,  then  Siegfried 
Guardian  of  the  Sword,  this  time  given  even  by  the  hero's 
own  lips  in  the  paroxysm  of  passion  ;  The  Bird,  The 
Shout  of  the  ll'alkxries,  after  which  a  last  return  of  The 
Enthusiasm  of  Love  carries  us  on  to  a  kind  of  stretto  by 
the  two  voices  which  has  received  the  name  ot  The  De- 
cision to  Love.1 


1  The  three  last  mentioned  motive,  Peace,  Siegfried  Treasure  of 
the  World,  and  The  Decision  to  Love,  together  with  Sleep,  are  those 
with  which  Wagner  formed  the  delightful  symphonic  piece,  The 
Siegfried  Idyl  (see  p.  51). 


OF    RICHARD   WAGNER 


413 


THE    DECISION    TO    LOVE 


Briinnhilde 


fo'l}i\ 


m 


^ 


^i 


m 


-*-* 


^ 


r    r  > 


r   r  g 

In  this  enchanting  finale  is  again  interwoven  Siegfried's 
//#//  A?  Zo-w ;  here,  again,  the  two  voices  unite  in  fre- 
quent thirds  and  sixths,  and  the  final  cadence  presents  an 
unusual  brio.  The  last  chords  of  the  orchestra  reproduce 
the  motive  of  The  Guardian  of  the  Sword  and  The  Enthu- 
siasm of  Love. 

GOTTERDAMMERUNG 

Gotterdammerung  differs  from  the  two  preceding  divi- 
sions in  its  general  form  bv  the  addition  of  a  greatly  de- 
veloped Prologue,  which  takes  the  place  of  a  Prelude  to 
the  first  act,  to  which  it  is  joined  without  anv  break. 
This  Prologue  may  perhaps  be  considered  as  divided  in 
two  parts ;  the  first  is  the  fine  sombre  scene  of  The 
Norns  weaving  the  cord  of  destiny  of  gods  as  well  as 
men  ;  the  second  shows  us  Bi  iinnhilde's  farewell  to  Sieg- 
fried who  is  setting  out  for  fresh  conquests. 

Prologue.  —  From  the  very  first  chords,  we  recog- 
nize  Briinnhilde's   Hail  to  the    World,   immediately   fol- 


4H 


THE    MUSIC    DRAMAS 


lowed  by  the  undulatory  movement  of  the  primordial 
clement,  The  Rhine,  which  changes ,  (at  the  moment 
when  the  first  Norn  is  about  to  speak)  into  The  Distress 
of  the  Gods;  four  bars  later  comes  The  Flames'  Spell.  As 
the  three  Sisters  in  their  conversation  pass  in  review  all 
the  events  which  we  have  seen  happen  during  the  pre- 
ceding days  of  the  Tetralogy,  it  is  natural  that  the  or- 
chestra should  also  make  the  motive  that  correspond  to 
the  various  phases  of  the  drama  defile  before  us  ;  conse- 
quently we  frequently  find  JValhalla,  Hail  to  Walhalla, 
Death,  The  Power  of  the  Gods,  The  Treaty,  The  Fall  of 
the  Gods,  Fate,  Loge,  The  Flames'  Spell,  Eternal  Sleep, 
The  Ring,  Love's  Regret,  The  Adoration  of  the  Gold,  The 
Nibe lung's  Cry  of  Triumph,  The  Sword,  The  Call  of  the 
Son  of  the  Woods,  and  The  Curse  of  the  Ring,  which  are 
introduced  here  in  the  above  order,  which  will  allow 
them  to  be  found  easily  in  the  score  ;  the  scene  of  The 
Norns  ends  with  the  motiv  of  Fate,  twice  repeated. 

During  the  interlude  which  accompanies  the  rising  of 
the  sun,  The  Call  of  the  Son  of  the  IVoods,  transformed 
into  an  heroic  character  in  |,  as  we  have  already  noticed 
(on  p.  390),  is  happily  combined  with  a  new  theme,  which 
personifies  Briinnhilde  in  her  human  love,  in  her  love  as 
a  wife,  the  beauty  of  which  is  marked  by  an  expressive 
gruppetto.  Four  bars  before  Briinnhilde  begins  to  speak, 
let  us  draw  attention  to  a  short   recall  of  The  Ride,  en- 


BRUNNHILDE 


OF    RICHARD    WAGNER 


4i5 


circling  The  Son  of  the  Woods,  for  it  is  he  and  not  she, 
who  shall  henceforth  ride  Grane.  Fourteen  bars  later 
appears  another  motiv  belonging  specially  to  Brimnhilde, 
characterizing  her  Herou   I. 


HEROIC    LOVE 


[The  latter  will  be  little  used  beyond  the  last  two  scenes  of 
Act  II.] 

These  last  motive  are  the  dominating  ones  in  the  har- 
monic tissue  of  this  second  half  of  the  Prologue,  and  are 
associated  with  some  others,  which  I  give,  as  usual,  in 
the  order  of  their  appearance  :  Hail  to  Love,  Loge,  Sieg- 
fried Guardian  of  the  Sword,  Fate,  The  Heritage  of  the 
World,  The  Ring,  The  Ride,  The  Rhine-Daughters'  cry 
of  joy,  The  Gold,  The  Ride,  Love,  Desire  to  Travel,  and 
The  Sword;  again  we  have  the  motiv  of  Briinnhilde,  as 
she  gazes  after  the  departing  hero,  at  the  beginning  of 
several  pages  which  separate  the  Prologue  from  the  Hist 
act  ;  then  when  he  is  no  longer  visible  we  hear  in  the 
distance  his  joyous  hunting  call,  The  Call  of  the  Son  of  the 
Woods  in  its  original  form  ;  in  this  entr'acte  we  recognize 
also  The  Derision  to  Love,  Love's  Regret,  Adoration  of  the 
Gold,  The  Gold,  The  Rhine,  The  Power  of  the  Ring,  and 
finally  The  Nihelung's  Cry  of  Triumph,  only  a  ivw  bars 
before  the   rising   of  the  curtain. 


4i6  THE   MUSIC    DRAMAS 

As  will  be  seen,  the  majority  of  the  preceding  Leit- 
motive  are  suggestive  reminders  to  the  hearer  of  this  vast 
Prologue,  which  is  a  kind  of  recapitulation  and  resume  of 
the  preceding  days,  and  which  predisposes  the  mind  in  a 
marvellous  way  to  the  violent  emotions  aroused  in  this 
final  drama. 

Act  I. 

Scene  I.  —  I  purposely  pass  over  several  motive  of 
secondary  importance,  relating  to  the  tribe  of  the  Gibichs 
and  the  uncongenial  character  of  Hagen,  which  appear 
in  the  very  first  notes  of  the  act;  although  very  clearly 
characterized  (so  that  any  intelligent  reader  can  find  them 
for  himself),  their  employment  is  entirely  episodical  ;  for 
this  reason  I  will  neglect  them  in  this  necessarily  brief 
review,  and  give  my  whole  attention  to  the  great  type- 
motive  which  dominate  the  entire  work  and  are  neces- 
sary to  its  complete  comprehension.  Note,  however,  that 
the  motiv  of  the  Gibichs  (6th  bar  in  Scene  I.)  does  not 
let  us  forget  that  we  are  on  the  banks  of  The  Rhine. 

Hagen  takes  the  lead  in  this  scene;  to  further  his 
dark  schemes  he  wants  Gunther  to  marry  Briinnhilde 
and  Gutrune  to  become  Siegfried's  wife.  He  tries  to 
awake  love  in  their  hearts  {Freia\\  to  Gunthei  he  de- 
scribes Briinnhilde  on  her  rock  {The  Ride,  The  Flames' 
Spell,  even  The  Bird);  to  Gutrune  he  portrays  Siegfried 
(  Heroism  of  the  Walsungs,  Call  of  the  Son  of  the  Woods,  The 
Ring,  the  victory  over  Fafner)  ;  he  explains  to  them  the 
source  of  his  power  {Power  of  the  Ring,  Love's  Regret, 
The  Gold,  Alberich's  Cry  of  Triumph) ;  and  finally  he  tells 
them  by  what  magic  means  he  intends  to  bring  about  this 
double  marriage,  without,  however,  letting  them  know 
that  in  his  inmost  heart  his  sole  purpose  is  to  make  use 
of  them  to  gain  the  Ring  and  the  power  with  which  it  is 


OF    RICHARD    WAGNKR 


4i7 


endowed.     This  situation  causes  the  employment  of  two 

new  motive :   one   expresses  Hagen's   Perfidious  Friendship 
for   Siegfried,   whose    death   he   desires ;    and   the    other 

HAGEN'S    PERFIDIOUS    FRIENDSHIP 

Gutrune 


Treachery  by  means  of  Magic,  which   is  often   preceded 
by  several  notes  of  The  Poiver  of  the  Helm,  which  informs 


Hagen 


TREACHERY    BY    MAGIC 


us  that  the  enchanted  helm,  The  Tarnhelm,  is  one  means 

of  which  he  intends  to  make  use. 

These  two  new  motive  appeal'  not  far  apart,  a  little 
past  the  middle  of  the  scene,  at  the  sign  meno  mossa  ;  hist 
comes  Treachery^  then  two  bars  of  The  Power  of  (he  Helm, 

27 


4i8 


THE    MUSIC    DRAMAS 


and,  seventeen  bars  later,  Perfidious  Friendship  ;  they  are  ac- 
companied by  rare  recurrences  of  The  Sword,  Fre'ia,  and 
The  Curse  of  the  Ring,  after  which  Siegfried  announces 
his  coming  by  his  favourite  air,  The  Call  of  the  Son  of  the 
Woods,  which  first  sounds  in  the  distance  and  then 
nearer ;  this  immediately  arouses  The  Adoration  of  the 
Gold,  which  in  turn  starts  the  flowing  of  the  waves  of 
The  Rhine,  and  The  Ring,  and  at  the  moment  when 
Siegfried    sets   his   foot   on    shore, 

Scene  II.,  The  Curse  of  the  Ring  make  its  terrible 
anathema  resound  anew. 

The  first  courteous  words  are  exchanged  whilst  the 
orchestra  is  saluting  Siegfried  Guardian  of  the  Swora  ;  the 
hero  immediately  begs  that  the  greatest  care  may  be 
taken  of  Grane,  which  gives  occasion  again  for  The  Ride, 
to  which  is  immediately  joined  a  tender  memory  of 
Brunnhilde.  In  the  conversation  which  follows,  allusions 
are  made  to  Hagen's  Perfidious  Friendship,  The  Heroism  of 
the  JV'dlsungs,  The  Sword,  the  forging  of  which  Siegfried 
narrates,  and  consequently  The  Forge,  The  Dragon 
which  he  has  killed,  Bondage,  The  Poiuer  of  the  Helm, 
the  knowledge  of  which  Hagen  imparts  to  Siegfried, 
The   Ring,  etc. 


GUTRUNE'S    WELCOME 


Gutrune 


OF    RICHARD   WAGNER 


419 


ja  sttr^y    *r&> 


Now  comes  the  act  of  treacheiy.  At  Hagen's  instiga- 
tion his  sister  graciously  comes  forward,  and,  with  friendly 
words,  which  are  accented  by  the  theme  of  Gutrune's 
Welcome,  offers  him  the  enchanted  cup  from  which  he  is  to 
imbibe  forgetfulness  ;  before  drinking  the  magic  potion, 
Siegfried,  still  faithful  to  his  love,  sends  a  tender  memory 
to  Briinnhilde  ;  it  is  to  her  he  drinks,  as  is  attested  by  the 
themes  Hail  to  Love,  The  Heritage  of  the  World,  and  the 
termination  in  thirds  which  we  have  already  pointed  out 
in  the  Duet  of  the  third  act  of  Siegfried. 

[This  characteristic  type-form  will  make  its  last  appearance  in 
Act  III.  Scene  II.,  when  Siegfried  recovers  the  full  possession  of 
his  memory.] 

At  the  very  moment  when  he  is  drinking  the  fatal 
philtre  (in  the  key  of  G  major,  after  a  prolonged  trill), 
the  sombre  theme  of  Treachery  by  Magic  heavilv  rum- 
bles, followed  by  Gutrune's  Welcome;  the  philtre  im- 
mediately operates,  the  pure  hero  loses  his  memory, 
the  past  becomes  a  blank,  and  he  burns  with  an 
ardent  love  for  Gutrune  only.  A  few  very  fugitive- 
reminiscences  of  The  Enthusiasm  of  Love,  The  Flames' 
Spell,  and  The  Bird  show  us  the  unsuccessful  efforts 
he  makes  to  recover  the  memories  that  have  taken 
flight;  henceforth  he  is  under  the  spell  of  the  traitor 
Hagen,  whose  hidden  will  he  must  passively  fulfil.      And 


.20 


THE    MUSIC    DRAMAS 


therefore  for  the  remainder  of  the  scene  the  motivt  of 
Treachery  (also  called  The  Magic  Imposture)  and  Gutrune 
have  considerable  importance. 

The  infamous  compact  which  is  imposed  on  him  is 
entered  into  on  the  themes  of  Treachery,  Loge,  whose 
flames  he  must  again  pass  through,  The  Ride,  The  Sword, 
The  Curse  of  the  Ring,  and  is  frequently  sealed  by  signifi- 
cant recurrences  of  The  Treaty. 

Having  exchanged  the  solemn  oath,  the  two  brothers- 
in-arms  unite  their  voices  in  a  brief  ensemble  in  which 
appears  the  Desire  to  Travel  in  the  form  of  a  dialogue, 
as  well  as  a  new  motiv,  which  each  sings  in  turn,  and 
which  has  received  the  name  of  The  Justice  of  Expiation 
(according  to  others,  The   Right  of  Expiation)  : 


THE   JUSTICE    OF    EXPIATION 

Gunther 


This  is  a  sort  of  penaltv  of  the  oath  :    he  who   breaks  it 
shall  pay  for  his  treason  with  his  life. 

After  several  brief  episodes,  during  which  are  heard 
I  ■■  Treaty,  The  Welcome,  The  Ring,  The  Golden  Apples, 
curiousl)  associated  with  The  Forge  (the  divine  origin  of 
the  hero  and  of  his  education  by  the  dwarf),  Love's  Re- 
gret, and  The  Ride  combined  with  Logc  (Grane  crossing 
the  flames),  the  two  knights  start  on  their  journey  with- 
out any  further  delay. 


OF    RICHARD    WAGNER  421 

Gutrune's  thoughts  follow  them  with  her  motiv  of 
Welcome,  and,  shortly  afterwards  Hagen's  ambitious  hopes 
are  clearly  set  forth  in  a  series  of  typical  motive  revealing 
a  train  of  ideas,  the  signification  of  which  we  cannot 
mistake  ;  The  Nibelungf  Work  of  Destruction,  The  Nibe- 
lung's  Cry  of  Triumph,  Siegfried  Guardian  of  the  Sword, 
The  Ride,  Love's  Regret,  The  Gold,  The  Ring  (the  object 
he  covets),  The  Call  of  the  Son  of  the  II  oods,  and  Bond- 
age;  he  also  is  following  the  warriors  with  his  thoughts. 
Borne  on  the  wings  of  the  symphonic  music,  we  go  on 
before  them  ;  in  the  course  of  the  same  orchestral  inter- 
lude, we  are  already  brought  into  Brunuhilde's  presence, 
first  by  her  own  motiv,  and  then  bv  her  Hail  to  the  florid, 
mingled  with  the  menacing  tones  of  The  Curse,  The 
Work  of  Destruction  and  The  Ring,  which  is  still  in  her 
possession. 

Scene  III.  —  In  fact,  when  the  curtain  again  rises  to 
the  strains  of  Treachery  by  Magic,  we  find  her  in  rapt 
contemplation  of  The  Ring;  her  state  of  mind  is  imme- 
diately revealed  to  us  by  the  memory  of  Siegfried  Treas- 
ure of  the  World,  which  is  quickly  followed  by  vague 
sounds  of  The  Ride.  This  is  Waltraute  who  comes  to 
visit  her  exiled  sister  and  tell  her  of  the  distress  of  the 
gods,  and  to  beseech  her  to  restore  the  fatal  Ring  to  the 
Rhine  to  save  them.  Hence  we  have  an  eloquent  suc- 
cession of  motive  :  The  Shout  of  the  Walkyries,  with  neigh- 
ings  and  prancings,  The  Announcement  of  a  New  Life,ihe 
Hail  to  the  World,  and  Hail  to  Love,  which  testify  to 
Briinnhilde's  unconquerable  fidelity  to  Siegfried  Guardian 
of  the  Sword ;  then  follows  a  memory  of  the  terrible 
llotans  Rage;  The  Distress  of  the  Gods,  the  splendours 
of  Walhalla,  The  Treaty,  Divine  Power,  so  sadly  shaken, 
Fate,  and  The  Golden  Apples,  which  Wotan  no  longei 
touches;  here  again  Walhalla  is  represented  in  a  state  ol 


422  THE    MUSIC    DRAMAS 

ruin  ;  then  come  Bondage,  The  Adoration  of  the  Gold,  the 
cause  of  all  the  evil,  a  touching  recall  of  fTotan's  Song  oj 
Farewell,  The  Ring,  The  Curse,  Love's  Regret,  The  Kibe- 
lung's  Cry  of  Triumph,  who  is  about  to  seize  his  prey, 
the  two  cruel  notes  of  Bondage,  in  short,  all  those  motive 
which  arc  adapted  to  the  subjects  on  which  the  two 
sisters  converse  ;  but  Briinnhilde  will  not  yield,  she  will 
keep  her  betrothal  ring,  all  her  love-themes  crowd  in 
again  anew  to  affirm  her  constancy  the  more  strongly, 
and  Waltraute  precipitately  departs  in  a  tumultuous  re- 
prise of  The  Rule. 

Being  left  alone,  Briinnhilde  sees  The  Flames'1  Spell  re- 
newed, the  rock  is  again  encircled  with  fire ;  she  feels 
Siegfried  returning,  his  Call  of  the  Son  of  the  Woods  is 
alreadv  sounding;  she  runs  to  meet  him!  Suddenly, 
like  a  knell,  The  Power  of  the  Helm  is  heard  :  Siegfried, 
wearing  the  Tarnhelm,  has  assumed  Gunther's  form  ; 
she  cannot  recognize  him. 

The  second  part  of  this  scene  is  one  of  the  most  pain- 
ful that  I  know  in  any  play,  and  the  best  thing  to  do  is 
to  take  refuge  in  the  purely  musical  interest  in  order  to 
support  the  odious  spectacle  of  the  pure  and  heroic  Sieg- 
fried having  become  a  traitor  to  honour  and  to  love 
(although  by  a  magic  subterfuge),  and  the  sight  of  the 
violence  of  which  he  is  guilty  in  this  irresponsible  con- 
dition towards  the  unfortunate  and  ever-loving  Walkyrie. 
Happily  this  does  not  last  long. 

On  the  arrival  of  Siegfried-Gunther,  The  Power  of  the 
I  film  asserts  itself,  immediately  followed  by  Treachery  by 
M.  i  inexorable  Fate  follows,  but  Siegfried's  voice  is 
impanied  bj  the  mrf/v  of  the  Gibichs  !  The  subterra- 
nean rhythm  of  The  Nibelungs*  Work  of  Destruction  is 
heard  muttering  ;  Briinnhilde  vainly  tries  to  resist  the 
brutal  invader  with  The  Ring;  he  opposes  it  with  The 


OF    RICHARD    WAGN1.K 


423 


Curse  of  the  Ring,  struggles  with  her,  overthrows  her, 
and  forces  her  to  fall  exhausted  in  his  anus  to  a  touch- 
ing recall  of  Siegfried  Treasure  of  the  World,  whom  she 
so  greatly  loves  and  who  no  longer  recognizes  her,  a  ter- 
rible situation,  which  is  accented  by  a  simultaneous  repe- 
tition of  The  Power  of  the  Helm  and  of  the  human  love 
of  Briinnhilde,  which  serves  to  make  only  more  explicit 
if  possible  a  return  of  the  infamous  Treachery. 

It  is  finished  ;  she  is  conquered  and  broken  :  the 
themes  which  now  return  (The  IVork  of  Destruction, 
Brunnhilde,  and  even  Fate)  can  tell  us  nothing  more; 
but  we  must  notice,  although  they  have  not  the  absolute 
character  of  a  Leit-motiv,  the  energetic  notes  of  the  or- 
chestra to  which  Siegfried,  strong  in  the  conviction  of 
having  acted  as  a  loyal  and  valiant  knight,  unsheathes 
his  sword,  to  protect  his  unhappy  victim. 


Pill  animato 


[We  shall  find  them  in  Act   II.  and  again  in  Act  III.  in  the 

affecting  final  scene  where  their  signification  can  be  thoroughly 
comprehended  only  by  remembering  this  poignant  situation.] 

Following  this  come  The  Sword  (in  this  case  called 
the  protector),  with  The  Treaty,  next  Gutrune's  11  elcome, 
which  now  alone  haunts  the  hero's  mind,  The  Treachery 
by  Magic  and  its  plaything  The  Helm,  and  the  love  of 
Brunnhilde,   which    he   despises.       The    last    moth    an- 


424 


THE   MUSIC    DRAMAS 


nounced  by  the  orchestra  is  The  Power  of  the  Helm, 
which,  in  truth,  has  played  the  most  terrifying  role  in  the 
whole  act. 

Act    II. 

Prelude  and  Scene  I.  —  The  persistent  rhythm  of 
The  IVork  of  Destruction,  The  Nibe  lungs'  Cry  of  Triumph, 
and  lastly  The  Ring,  alone  form  the  framework  of  this 
Prelude,  which  is  directly  connected  with  Scene  I. 

This  scene  passes  in  profound  darkness,  only  illumi- 
nated by  the  wan  light  of  the  heavily-veiled  moon,  be- 
tween the  Nibelung  Alberich,  who  has  risen  from  the 
depths  of  the  Rhine,  and  his  son  Hagen,  who  is  in  a 
trance-like  sleep ;  the  motive  of  hatred  and  ambition  are 
necessarily  the  ruling  ones  ;  first  come  those  mentioned 
in  the  Prelude,  which  form  the  ground-work,  and  then 
The  Power  of  the  Ring,  Love's  Regret,  and  a  new  ter- 
ribly expressive  theme,  Murder,  inciting  to  murder 


MURDER 


[which  will  be  used  again  in  Scenes  IV.  and  V.  of  this  actj  ; 

and,  as   if   more  clearlv   to   indicate  him  against  whom 
this   menace    is   directed,    here    come    The    Sword   with 


OF    RICHARD    WAGNER  425 

which  Siegfried  killed  Fafner,  The  Ring  which  is  in  his 
Power,  and  The  Call  of  the  Son  of  the  Woods,  his  charac- 
teristic flourish. 

Farther  on,  in  the  same  scene,  there  are  allusions  to 
Briinnhilde,  who  is  represented  by  the  Announcement  of  a 
Nexv  Life,  and  to  The  Rhine-Daughters,  as  well  as  the 
ruined  //  'alhalla,  the  destruction  of  which  is  the  ultimate 
aim ;  but  these  motive  pass  rapidly,  leaving  almost  a 
clear  field  for  others  of  sombre  tints  which  depict  the 
vindictive  and  saturnine  characters  of  the  father  and  son, 
Murder,  The  Curse  of  the  Ring,  and  Bondage. 

Scene  II.  —  The  sunrise  is  here  represented  by  a 
supple  figure  treated  in  canon  on  a  rather  long  pedal  of 
the  tonic  (B  Hat),  which  is  somewhat  remotely  related 
to  The  Rhine  motiv  ;  it  is  sunrise  on  the  banks  of  the 
Rhine. 

Siegfried's  arrival  is  announced  by  The  Power  of  the 
Helm,  which  he  still  wears,  and  the  lively  Call  of  the  Son 
of  the  (Foods.  He  tells  Hagen,  and  Gutrune,  who 
afterwards  arrives,  of  the  success  of  his  voyage,  his  pas- 
sage through  the  flames,  whence  arise  the  scintillating 
theme  of  Loge,  Gutrune's  Welcome,  and  Treacher^  by 
Magic,  besides  the  three  great  orchestral  notes  in  octaves 
without  any  accompanying  harmony,  which  we  have 
already  mentioned  (p.  423),  followed  by  The  Sword ;  a 
combination  which  indicates  the  I03  a!  and  chaste  man- 
ner in  which  his  mission  has  been  accomplished. 

Scene  III.  —  Hagen's  cry  calling  together  Gunther's 
vassals  reproduces  the  notes  of  Bondage  ;  whilst  the  figure 
in  the  bass,  which  proceeds  with  great  bounds  of  a 
ponderously  jovial  character,  seems  to  characterize 
Hagen's  gaiety.  At  the  second  bar  we  find  a  new 
theme,  Call  to  the  Marriage,  which  greatly  resembles 
Gutrune's  Welcome,  ot  which  it  is  merely  a  transformation : 


426 


THE    MUSIC    DRAMAS 


CALL    TO    THE    MARRIAGE 


Jf 


zm 


m  n  j  1 


The  vassals  immediately  come  in,  which  gives  occa- 
sion for  a  highly  developed  chorus  of  men  during  which 
the  sounding  of  the  call  is  frequently  heard,  alternating 
with  Hagen's  voice  giving  orders  for  the  sacrifices  to  the 
gods. 

Scene  IV.  —  This  chorus  lasts  till  the  beginning  of 
Scene  IV.,  when  Gunther  enters  leading  Briinnhilde. 

The  entrance  of  the  latter  is  accented  by  several  sad 
recalls  of  The  Ride,  followed  by  The  Call  to  the  Mar- 
riage ;  when  she  recognizes  Siegfried  and  during  the 
moment  of  stupor  which  follows  it,  there  is  in  the 
orchestra  an  almost  uninterrupted  and  eloquent  succes- 
sion of  The  Call  of  the  Son  of  the  Woods,  Revenge,  Fate, 
The  Pover  of  the  Helm,  Treachery  by  Magic,  The  Call  to  the 
Marriage,  Briinnhilde,  The  Ring,  The  Curse  of  the  Ring, 
The  Work  of  Destruction,  The  Gold,  The  Dragon,  The 
Adoration  of  the  Gold,  Fafner,  Siegfried  Guardian  of  the 
Sword,  and  then  Bondage,  which  force  us  to  pass  through 
all  the  rapid  phases  of  thought  in  the  mind  of  the 
unhappy  fallen  Walkyrie.  At  the  moment  when  she 
invokes  the  gods,  it  is  JValhalla  that  sounds,  followed  by 
Revenge  and  Destruction. 

The  rest  of  the  scene  follows  its  course  with  the 
aid  of  the  above  motive  ;  we  find  in  addition,  but  less 
frequently,  Love's   Regret,   Heroic   Love,   The  Justice  of 


OF    RICHARD    WAGNER  42^ 

Expiation,  and  the  three  sword-strokes  which  symbolize 
the  loyalty  with  which  Siegfried  is  conscious  of  having 
accomplished  his  undertaking  ;  the  oath  taken  bv  Sieg- 
fried, and  repeated  by  Briinnhilde  in  her  turn,  towards 
the  middle  of  the  scene  covers  the  underlying  motiv  of 
Murder,  to  which  Siegfried  condemns  himself  without 
knowing  it.  Then  we  again  meet  with  Bondage,  Loge^ 
The  Poiver  of  the  Helm,  The  Ring,  and  The  Call  to  the 
Marriage,  at  which  Briinnhilde  falls  into  profound  medi- 
tation while  the  page  is  being  played  by  the  orchestra 
which  separates  this  scene  from  the  succeeding  one, 
after  Siegfried's  departure  with  Gutrune. 

Scene  V.  —  Being  left  alone  with  Gunthcr  and 
Hagen,  her  sad  thoughts  have  full  rein,  the  motiv  of  The 
IVork  of  Destruction  takes  possession  of  her,  The  Justice 
of  Expiation  and  Bondage  overwhelm  her,  and  she  seems 
to  have  a  presentiment  of  the  Murder ;  Fate,  however, 
one  of  whose  agents  she  has  been,  particularly  haunts 
her,  The  Heritage  of  the  World  and  Heroic  Love  return 
with  sharp  memories  ;  two  of  these  motive  in  particular, 
Murder  and  Bondage,  simultaneously  combine,  as  though 
to  foretell  the  fatal  catastrophe ;  tender  memories  again 
bring  back  Siegfried  Guardian  of  the  Szuord,  and  the 
Enthusiasm  of  Love,  with  its  successions  of  thirds  and 
sixths  ;  but  the  sombre  themes  always  predominate.  It 
is  to  the  persistent  rhythm  of  The  Nibelungs'  Work  of 
Destruction  that  Briinnhilde  reveals  to  Hagen  that  Sieg- 
fried is  vulnerable  in  the  back,  and  that  the  assassin's 
blade  may  thus  reach  him,  which  decides  his  fate. 
Love's  Regret  appears  several  times  with  Revenge  and 
Bondage;  the  idea  of  Murder  increases  in  intensity. 

Hagen,  supported  by  the  motive  of  Revenge  and 
Destruction,  proposes  the  death  of  Siegfried. 

Gunther,   moved    for    a    moment    at    the   thought  of 


4i8  THE   MUSIC    DRAMAS 

the  iirief  which  it  will  cause  his  sister,  hesitates,  whence 
recur  Gutrune's  II  elcome  and  Freta.  "  He  will  have 
been  killed  by  a  boar,"  Hagen  suggests  ;  and  Gunther 
wcakl\    yields. 

As  for  Briinnhilde,  assisted  by  the  motiv  of  Murder, 
and  regarding  Siegfried  as  a  recreant  who  has  betrayed 
her,  she  is  the  first  to  desire  his  death. 

The  three  characters  on  the  stage  are  moved  by  this 
single  thought,  here,  therefore,  occurs  a  Trio,  in  which 
Siegfried's  death  is  decided. 

The  double  nuptial  train  is  formed  to  the  strains  of 
The  Call  to  the  Marriage  and  Gutrune's  Welcome;  but 
at  the  moment  the  curtain  falls,  the  idea  of  Revenge, 
and  still  more  that  of  Bondage,  dominate  the  festal 
sounds. 

Act  III. 

Prelude  and  Scene  I.  —  After  the  violent  emo- 
tions of  the  two  preceding  acts,  we  feel  an  inexpres- 
sible craving  for  freshness  and  tranquillity. 

The  delightful  scene  of  Siegfried  and  the  Rhine- 
Daughters  comes  most  happily  as  a  refreshing  diversion 
to  relax  our  over-excited  nerves,  and  so  render  them 
more  sensitive  to  the  tragic  events  which  are  to  ter- 
minate the  drama. 

From  the  first  notes  of  the  Prelude  we  again  hear, 
joyous  and  full  of  life,  The  Call  of  the  Son  of  the  Woods, 
to  which  in  the  distance  the  horns  of  Gunther  and 
Hagen  reply  (the  motiv  of  Gunther's  hunting  is  none 
other  than  The  Call  to  the  Marriage,  which  itself 
is  derived,  as  will  be  remembered,  from  Gutrune's 
I!  home).  The  groaning  of  Bondage,  twice  recalled,  is 
the  only  sombre  note  in  this  scene,  which  is  otherwise 
BO   hill   of   youth   and   charm. 


OF    RICHARD    WAGNER  429 

First,  we  meet  with  The  Rhine,  which  (with  the  ex- 
ception of  an  almost  imperceptible  allusion  in  Siegfried ), 
we  have  not  heard  since  the  Rheingold  Day;  The  Adora- 
tion of  the  Gold  escorts  it  with  The  Gold,  whereupon  the 
hunting-calls  are  renewed.  Next  the  orchestra  pre- 
sents to  us  the  graceful  melody  which  is  about  to 
become  a  new  Trio  of  the  seductive  Undines,  who  this 
time  are  sporting  on  the  surface  of  the  water,  accom- 
panied by  the  incessant  murmur  of  the  waves  of  The 
Rhine,   with    memories   of  the   lost    Gold. 

The  Trio  becomes  a  Quartet  on  the  arrival  of  Sieg- 
fried, who  has  wandered  from  the  hunt  in  pursuit 
of  a  bear.  The  nymphs  allure  and  captivate  him  with 
their  grace  and  joyous  singing ;  they  ask  him  to  give 
them  his  Ring  (Adoration  of  the  Gold  and  The  Ring), 
which  he  gained  by  killing  the  savage  Dragon ;  he 
refuses,  and  they  taunt  him  with  his  avarice  and  annoy 
him  with  their  mocking  laughter;  then,  just  as  he  i> 
going  to  yield,  they  become  serious  again  and  tell  him 
of  the  curse  attached  to  The  Ring  (this  phrase  ends 
with  Love's  Regret) ;  they  announce  his  death  unless  he 
restores  to  them  the  cursed  Ring  (Poxver  of  the  Ring, 
Curse  of  the  Ring,  Bondage,  Adoration  of  the  Gold,  etc.). 
He  would  have  vielded  to  their  charms,  but  he  will  not 
vield  before  a  threat  ;  from  the  moment  when  the  Ring 
becomes  a  danger  to  its  possessor  (The  Treaty,  The 
Ring,  Fafnei  ),  he  will  keep  it  (The  Nibelung's  Cry  of 
Triumph.)  I  he  Nixies  are  greatlv  agitated  as  they  see 
their  Gold  once  more  escaping  them  ;  they  try  to  per- 
suade the  daring  mortal  of  his  madness,  but,  seeing  that 
they  must  renounce  the  hope  of  regaining  The  Ring, 
they  quietly  resume  Jieir  sporting  and  disappear  in  the 
brilliant   ensemble  with   which    the  act   opens. 

Being  left  alone,  Siegfried   hears  the   hunting-calls  of 


+3o  THE    MUSIC    DRAMAS 

Gunther  and  Hagen  approaching,  accompanied  by  Tht 
Curse  of  the  Ring  and  Bondage,  and  answers  them  with 
his    Call  of  the   Son  of  the   Woods. 

Scene  II.  —  While  Gunther  and  Hagen  are  approach- 
ing, followed  by  men  carrying  the  spoils  of  the  chase 
which  they  heap  at  the  foot  of  a  tree,  the  orchestra 
makes  use  of  the  motive  of  hunting,  occasionally  giving 
forth  figures  borrowed  from  the  Trio  of  the  Rhine- 
Daughters,  who  still  occupy  Siegfried's  mind,  and  to 
these  as  soon  as  the  dialogue  begins  are  added  Hagen's 
Perfidious  Friendship,  Bondage,  Revenge,  and  some  notes 
of  The  Bird;  a  little  farther  on  come  Heroic  Love  and 
The  Justice  of  Expiation,  in  combination  with  Loge  (the 
snare),  Treachery  by  Magic,  which  is  following  its 
course,  and  then,  when  Siegfried  at  Hagen's  request  is 
about  to  tell  of  his  infancy  and  youth,  The  Forge,  and 
again    The  Bird. 

The  story  which  follows  and  which  brings  us  directly 
to  the  scene  of  assassination,  is  so  wonderfully  annotated 
by  the  orchestra  that  we  might  follow  its  windings  with- 
out the  help  of  words. 

First  comes  The  Forge  where  he  was  reared  in  a 
state  of  Bondage,  in  the  hope  that  one  day  he  should 
kill  The  Dragon;  there  is  Mime's  whining  complaint; 
there  is  The  Casting  of  the  Sword  and  the  victory  over 
The  Dragon;  next  reappear  The  Murmurs  of  the  Forest, 
in  which  Siegfried  now  sings  the  part  of  The  Bird; 
Mime's  death  occasions  a  last  return  of  The  Forge. 
At  this  moment,  Hagen,  pursuing  his  evil  machinations, 
prepares  a  new  philtre  which  will  restore  his  memory, 
and  presents  it  to  him  under  the  deceitful  strains  of 
Perfidious  Friendship ;  Siegfried  empties  the  cup  at  one 
draught,  while  there  mysteriously  glides  into  the  orches- 
tra the  theme  of  Treachery  by  Magic,  solemnly  preceded 


OF    RICHARD   WAGNER  431 

by  The  Power  of  the  Helm,  and  immediately  followed 
by  Heroic  Love  and  the  human  love  of  Briinnhilde. 
Memory  has  returned,  he  resumes  his  story;  with  it 
return  The  Murmurs  of  the  Forest,  The  Bird,  The  Flames'' 
Spell,  Fre'ia  (beauty),  Briinnhilde'' s  Sleep,  The  Heritage  of 
the  IVorld,  Hail  to  the  World ,  and  the  termination  in 
thirds  of  the  Love-duet,  the  memory  of  his  first  ecstasies. 
It  is  then  that  the  traitor  Hagen,  pointing  out  to  Sieg- 
fried Wotan's  two  ravens  which  are  flying  past  croak- 
ing, induces  him  to  turn  his  back  and  plunges  his  spear 
between  the  shoulders  of  the  hero.  The  Curse  of  the 
Ring  thunders  out,  and,  then,  like  a  solemn  knell,  Sieg- 
fried Guardian  of  the  Siuord,  which  is  followed  at  a  short 
interval  by  Fate  and  The  "Justice  of  the  Expiation,  amid 
general  stupefaction.  Siegfried  is  wounded  unto  death, 
but  he  is  not  dead.  In  his  agony  and  in  a  state  of 
ecstasy,  he  continues  his  story,  which  the  fatal  blow  has 
only  interrupted.  Hail  to  the  IVorld  recurs  in  its  com- 
plete development  ;  Fate,  The  Guardian  of  the  Sword, 
Hail  to  Love,  the  Enthusiasm  of  Love  follow,  and  then, 
with   a  last   recall  of  Fate,   he  falls  dead. 

Here  commences  (in  the  key  of  C  minor),  the 
admirable  symphonic  page  which  it  is  the  custom  to 
call  the  Siegfried  Funeral  March,  but  which  we  must 
regard  as  the  most  touching  and  most  eloquent  of 
funeral  orations  rather  than  as  a  march :  a  funeral 
oration  which  is  without  words,  and  for  that  very 
reason  so  much  the  more  impressive  and  solemn,  for 
we  have  arrived  at  that  degree  of  tension  where,  words 
having  become  powerless,  music  alone  can  minister  to 
an  emotion   which   is  almost  superhuman. 

Here  the  whole  life  of  the  hero  is  retraced.  All  the 
heroic  motive  that  we  know  pass  before  us,  not  in  their 
accustomed    dress,    but    gloomily     veiled    in    mourning, 


432 


THE    MUSIC    DRAMAS 


broken  with  sobs,  inspiring  terror,  and  forming  in  the 
atmosphere  surrounding  the  dead  hero  an  invisible  and 
impalpable  train,  the  mystic  train  of  living  thoughts. 
First,  grave  and  solemn,  comes  The  Heroism  of  the 
11  alsungs,  which  we  remember  having  heard  the  first 
time  when  Siegmund,  at  the  opening  of  Die  Walkure, 
sadly  tells  of  his  misfortunes ;  next  comes  Compassion, 
representing  the  unhappy  Sieglinde,  and  Love,  the  Love 
of  Siegmund  and  Sieglinde  which  was  to  give  birth  to 
Siegfried  :  does  it  not  seem  that  the  tender  souls  of  his 
father  and  mother,  whom  he  loved  so  dearly  without 
having  known  them,  are  hovering  above  him  and  have 
come  to  be  chief  mourners  ?  Then,  we  have  The  Race 
of  the  IV'dlsungs  in  its  entirety,  which,  in  a  superb  move- 
ment of  the  basses,  joins  the  funeral  cortege  in  the  same 
way  as  the  weapons  of  the  deceased  are  laid  upon  the 
coffin  :  The  Sword,  the  proud  sword,  is  there,  still  glit- 
tering and  flaming,  having  become  heraldic  in  the  lumi- 
nous glow  of  C  major,  which  only  appears  for  this 
single  moment ;  finally  comes  the  one  motiv  above  all 
others  of  the  hero,  Siegfried  Guardian  of  the  Sword,  twice 
repeated  in  an  ascending  progression,  the  second  time 
with  its  frank  and  loval  ending,  and  followed  by  The  Son 
of  the  Woods  in  its  heroic  form,  again  singularly  extended, 
which  occasions  a  sacred  memory  of  Briinnhilde,  his  only 
love.  Could  anything  more  affecting  be  imagined  ?  At 
:he  last  notes  of  the  Funeral  March,  which  only  ends  with 
Scene  III.,  are  heard  two  gloomy  chords  which  have 
/n  them  as  much  of  Bondage  as  of  The  Ni  belting's  Cry  of 
Triumph,  just  as  in  the  following  bars  another  figure, 
which  The  Curse  of  the  Ring  underlies,  may  be  regarded 
at  will  cither  as  a  bitter  memory  of  Gutrune's  Welcome, 
or  of  The  Call  to  Marriage,  two  motive  which  equally 
relate  to  the   idea  of  treachery. 


OF    RICHARD    WAGNER 


4J3 


Many  a  time  the  listener,  deceived  like  Gutrune, 
thinks  he  hears  the  accustomed  Call  of  the  Son  of  the 
Woods ;  but  the  flourish  is  not  completed  ;  it  is  always 
broken  and  seems  to  stagger;  we  hear  Grane  wildly 
neighing  with  several  notes  of  The  Ride;  Gutrune 
anxiously  tries  to  find  Brunnhilde  ;  she  is  possessed  bv 
the  idea  of  Fate,  with  which  is  joined  The  Nibelungs  Cry 
of  Triumph.  Suddenly  reappears  the  motiv  of  Revenge, 
accompanying  Hagen's  hoarse  cry,  which  is  borrowed 
from  Bondage.  Prom  here  the  orchestra  moves  onwards 
to  Gunther's  death  with  a  small  number  of  motive  :  The 
Call  of  the  Son  of  the  IVoods,  which  is  changed  to  the  minor, 
and  Lovers  Regret ;  on  the  arrival  of  the  body,  Siegfried 
Guardian  of  the  Sivord,  which  is  only  given  by  its  first 
notes,  Murder,  The  ^Justice  of  Expiation,  The  Ring,  The 
Curse,  and  Fate.  It  is  on  the  last  motiv  that  Gunther 
receives    his   death-blow. 

Hagen  immediately  tries  to  get  possession  of  the 
Ring,  whereupon  the  dead  Siegfried's  arm  is  raised  in  a 
menacing  manner,  clenching  the  Ring  in  his  closed 
fingers  with  a  terrifying  clash  of  The  Sword,  which  pro- 
tects the  hero  even  in  death. 

Then,  to  an  extended  figure  formed  of  The  Fall  of  the 
Gods,  The  Noms,  and  The  Rhine,  and  tragically  ending 
with  Fate,  Brunnhilde  appears.  At  the  close  of  her 
first  phrase,  the  development  of  Fate  shows  us  the  song 
of  Death.  She  dismisses  Gutrune,  reminding  her  of 
her  perfidious  Welcome,  and,  with  the  theme  of  The 
Heritage  of  the  World,  proclaims  herself  the  sole  true 
spouse  of  the  dead  hero  ;  to  a  last  recall  of  Treachery  by 
Magic,  Gutrune  curses  Hagen  whom  she  has  obeyed, 
and   retires  in   shame  and    desolation. 

From  now  on,  the  character  of  Brunnhilde  will  alone 
fill  this  never-to-be-forgotten   scene  of  terrible   majesty 


434  THE    MUSIC    DRAMAS 

and  splendour,  so  splendid  ana  emotionally  stirring  that 
no   words   can   describe   it. 

While  Briinnhilde  orders  a  pyre  to  be  raised  and  her 
horse  to  be  fetched,  the  ruling  motive  are  :  Divine  Power, 
The  Flames'  Spell,  Siegfried  Guardian  of  the  Sword,  and 
The  Ride ;  next  tender  memories  return,  with  Hail  to 
Love,  and  a  repetition  of  The  Sivord  (which  we  now  hear 
for  the  last  time)  ;  these  touching  notes  are  brusquely 
broken  into  by  the  three  significant  orchestral  strokes 
which  we  found  for  the  first  time  in  the  terrible  Duet  of 
Act  I.  Scene  III.  ;  in  the  hero's  actions  while  under  the 
power  of  a  spell  they  signified  what  chivalrous  loyalty 
meant  to  him  ;  here  to  Briinnhilde  they  stand  for  cold 
and  incomprehensible  treachery.  After  a  recall  of  Fate 
she  addresses  herself  to  the  gods  ;  then  we  have  JValhalla 
and  the  Announcement  of  a  New  Life,  which  reappears 
more  expressive  than  ever;  and  to  Bondage,  The  Curse 
of  the  Ring,  and  the  Distress  of  the  Gods,  succeeds  like  a 
farewell,  sad  and  yet  radiant,  a  last  Hail  to  JValhalla. 

Divine  Power  reappears  for  an  instant,  followed  by 
The  Fall  of  the  Gods  and  The  Rhine,  three  closely-related 
motive ;  she  is  talking  to  the  Rhine-Daughters  now,  and 
of  The  Gold  which  she  is  going  to  restore  to  them  under 
the  form  of  The  Ring  which  the  flames  of  the  pyre  will 
at  last  purify  from  The  Curse  weighing  upon  it. 

To    the    brutally    energetic     accents    of  The   Treaty, 

succeed    the   leaping   figures  of  The  Flames'   Spell,  Loge, 

Fall  of  the  Gods,  and    The   Norns.      Briinnhilde  has 

seized  a  torch,  and,  after  having  fired  the  pyre,  she  has 

cast  a  burning  brand  against    Walhalla. 

The  Ride  reappears,  wild  and  furious ;  she  is  now 
speaking  to  her  faithful  Grane,  he  shall  carry  her  alive 
into  the  pyre,  and  shall  die  there  heroically  with  her. 
'I  hen  appears  in  its  wondrous  splendour  the  magnificent    , 


OF    RICHARD    WAGNER  435 

motiv  of  Redemption  by  Love,  which  the  great  composer, 
after  having  given  us  only  a  glimpse  of  it  in  the  third 
act  of  Die  JValkure  (Scene  L,  during  Sieglinde's  role), 
has  kept  in  reserve  for  use  here  as  the  radiating  aureole 
of  the  pure  and  intrepid  heroine.  This  motiv  will  keep 
ceaselessly  rising  and  increasing,  lovingly  entwining  with 
that  of  Siegfried  Guardian  of  the  Sword,  as  Briinnhilde's 
exaltation,  already  excited  by  the  incessant  crackling  of 
The  Flames,  attains  a  paroxysm  of  intensity  ;  suddenly, 
with  a  thrilling  utterance  of  her  old  IValkyrie  Shout,  she 
urges  her  noble  horse  into  a  gallop,  and  both  plunge  into 
the  flaming  pvre  ! 

The  fire  leans  up,  the  flames  hiss,  the  motive  of  Loge 
and  The  Flames  rage,  Eternal  Sleep  greatly  expands,  The 
Rhine  rises  and  invades  the  stage;  The  Curse  of  the  Ring 
is  heard  again  once  more,  though  broken  and  incomplete  ; 
the  tenacious  Hagen  dashes  into  the  waves  to  seize  the 
Ring,  which  the  joyous  Rhine-Daughters  at  last  have 
regained. 

The  drama  is  ended,  but  there  still  remains  to  be 
heard  a  prodigious  epilogue  which  is  purely  instrumental, 
during  which  our  emotion,  which  seems  already  at  its 
height,  will  nevertheless  be  increased,  and  this  by  the 
sole  power  of  the  music  and  the  harmonic  combinations 
of  the  Lett-motive. 

While  The  Rhine,  gradually  becoming  calm,  carries 
awav  with  it  the  jubilant  Rhine-Daughters  sporting  with 
their  golden  Ring,  while  JValhalla,  lost  forever,  finally 
doomed,  but  still  solemn  and  splendid,  is  illumined  with 
the  first  flames  which  will  devour  and  annihilate  it, 
there  comes  floating  above  everything,  like  the  pene- 
trating and  sweet  perfume  exhaled  by  Briinnhilde's  pure 
soul,  or  the  blossoming  of  her  infinite  tenderness,  the 
radiant  song  of  Redemption  by  Love,  which  every  moment 


436  THE    MUSIC    DRAMAS 

becomes  more  and  more  ethereal.  All  these  motive  run 
side  by  side  as  in  a  prophetic  and  luminous  dream,  with- 
out any  confusion,  each  one  preserving  immutably  its 
own  character,  whether  majestic,  happy,  or  ecstatic,  and 
the  result  is  a  complex,  indefinable,  and  profoundly 
affecting  impression,  which,  after  all  these  scenes  of  a 
mythological  nature,  plunges  the  deeply  moved  soul  into 
a  state  of  almost  divine  contemplation  and  Christian 
idealit\ . 

In  the  four  following  pages  I  give  a  kind  of  sketch 
showing  the  curious  way  in  which  this  prodigious  com- 
bination has  been  effected,  indicating,  as  nearly  as  pos- 
sible, the  marvellous    orchestration. 

What  first  attracts  attention  is  the  majestic  theme  of 
Walhalla,  which  is  given  to  the  family  of  Tubas  and  to 
the  Bass  Trumpet  (the  Wagnerian  brass),  solemnly 
swelling  out  in  the  fj  bar;  when  this  mot'w  ceases  for  a 
moment,  the  Tubas  are  replaced  by  the  Trombones, 
without  being  confounded  with  them.  —  In  the  meantime 
on  the  Violoncellos,  the  Violas  and  Harps,  appears  the 
undulatorv  movement  of  the  waves  of  The  Rhine,  with 
its  usual  rhythm  in  &. —  The  Oboes  and  Clarinets,  to 
which  the  English  Horn  and  the  third  Flute  are  afterwards 
added,  recall  the  supple  movements  of  the  swimming 
Rhine-Daughters.  It  is  onlv  at  the  last  that  there  ap- 
pears on  the  first  and  second  Violins,  reinforced  by  two 
Flutes,  the  theme,  glowing  in  splendour  like  a  marvellous 
apotheosis,  The  Redemption  by  Love,  in  a  very  extended 
bar  of  -  of  such  grandeur  and  such  sublimity  in  this 
supreme  transformation,  that  we  feel  ourselves  trans- 
ported into  the   realms  of  the   unknown. 

We  next  find  Divine  Power  which  sinks  down  abruptly 
into  the  bass;  we  are  in  the  presence  of  the  conflagration 
and  fall  of  the  Palace  of  the  gods,  for  the  last  time   the 


OF    RICHARD    WAGNER 


437 


438 


THE    MUSIC    DRAMAS 


OF    RICHARD    WAGNER 


439 


440 


THE   MUSIC    DRAMAS 


OF   RICHARD   WAGNER  441 

valiant  notes  of  The  Guardian  of  the  Sword  sound,  while 
still  higher  in  the  celestial  regions  hovers,  like  a  last  and 
supreme  benediction,  the  consolatory  phrase  which  is  so 
sweet  and  so  nobly  serene,  in  which  the  whole  drama  is 
summed  up  :    The  Redemption  by  Love. 

It  is  of  a  most  marvellous  completeness,  and  it  all 
moves  with  such  ease  that  the  hearer  does  not  for  an 
instant  receive  the  impression  of  the  actual  complication 
of  what  he  hears.  All  the  motive  stand  out  from  one 
another  clearly,  and  the  dissonances  which  are  sometimes 
formed  among  them  disappear,  thanks  to  the  clearly 
defined  diversity  of  the  timbre.  There  is  no  confusion, 
no  harshness;  we  float  blissfully  in  an  ocean  of  luminous 
waves  of  harmony,  and  we  would  like  to  be  able  indefi- 
nitely to  prolong  this  delicious  sensation,  and,  however 
slowly  the  curtain  may  fall,  we  are  torn  from  this  lovely 
dream  to  return  to  the  reality  of  life  all  too  soon. 

And  the  lesson  which  we  1  am  from  it  is  this  :  "  It 
has  passed  like  a  breath,  this  race  of  the  gods  ;  the  treas- 
ure of  my  sacred  knowledge  I  leave  to  the  world  :  it  is 
no  longer  goods,  gold,  or  sacred  pomp,  houses,  courts, 
lordly  magnificence,  nor  the  deceitful  ties  of  dark  treaties, 
nor  the  harsh  law  of  hypocritical  manners,  but  only  one 
single  thing  which  in  good  as  in  evil  days  makes  us 
happy:   Love!"     (R.Wagner.) 

PARSIFAL 

Prelude.  —  By  the  very  Prelude  we  are  initiated  Into 
all  the  great  symbolic  motive  of  the  Holv  Grail. 

The  first  sound  which  issues  from  the  depths  of  the 
"  mystic  abyss,"  a  simple,  low  A-flat  on  the  G  string  of 
the  thirty-two  violins,  in  a  slow  svneopated  movement, 
this  sound,  bewildering  inasmuch  as  it  seems  to  rise  from 


442 


THE    MUSIC    DRAMAS 


PARSIFAL 


NAMES 

of  the  principal  Leit-motive  in 

PARSIFAL 

in  the  order  of  their 

first  appearance. 

scenes  : 1 

-z 

ACT 
I. 

T3 

- 

ACT 
II. 

•a 

ACT 
III. 

i 

2 

'■ 

I       2 

3 

i 

2 

• 
• 
• 
• 

• 
• 
t 
• 
• 
• 
• 
• 
• 
• 
• 
• 
• 

• 
• 
• 
• 
• 

• 
• 

• 
• 
• 

• 
• 
• 

• 
• 
• 
• 

• 

• 

• 
• 

•  • 

•  • 

•  • 
■    • 

•  • 

•  • 

•  • 

•  • 
» 

• 
• 
• 
O 

e 

• 
• 

• 
• 
• 
• 
• 
• 

• 
• 
• 
• 
• 

• 
• 

• 

• 
• 
• 
• 

• 
• 
• 

e 
• 
• 

• 

• 
• 

• 

•     • 

• 

• 
• 

•  • 

•  • 

•  • 

•  ■ 

•  • 

•  • 

•  • 

Parsifal 

• 

• 

•     • 

•  • 
»    • 

1  In  Parsifal  the  division  o.  scenes  is  entirely  arbitrary,  but  agrees  with  the  analysis 
which  follows. 


OF    RICHARD    WAGNER 


443 


all  parts  of  the  hall  at  the  same  time,  is  the  initial  note 
of  the  mysterious  mot'iv  of  the  Eucharist :  a  moth  of  ex- 


THE    EUCHARIST 


piu  p 


treme  breadth  in  its  calm  and  majestic  simplicity;  at  first 
presented  bare,  without  any  kind  of  accompaniment,  it  is 
immediately  repeated,  harmonized  with  arpeggio  envelop- 
ments, to  which  the  harp  lends  its  priestly  character. 

After  a  long  silence,  the  same  moth  returns,  this  time 
in  the  minor,  which  gives  it  an  extraordinary  impression 
of  suffering,  which  becomes  still  more  painful  when  it  is 
emphasized  by  being  harmonized. 

Another  long  rest  !  These  solemn  silences  are  won- 
derfully eloquent  and  expressive;  we  feel  that  there  is 
food  for  much  meditation  on  the  single  theme  which  has 
just  been  presented,  and  so  we  meditate. 

More  detailed  analyses  will  show  how  this  first  moth 
may  be  subdivided  into  several  fragments,  each  one  of 
which  has  a  special  mystical   signification. 

The  second  theme  to  appear  is  The  Grail,  which  musi- 

THE    GRAIL 


44-4 


THE   MUSIC    DRAMAS 


callv  represents  the  sacred  vessel,  and,  by  extension,  the 
temple  in  which  it  is  piously  preserved. 

Thirdly,  still  without  leaving  the  key  of  A-flat,  we 
have  the  austere  motiv  of  Faith,  which  is  developed  with 


n   |,       A 

FAITH 
A        A       A        A            A 

A 

/ 

1 

/ 

\^* 

great   length   and    pomp,  momentarily   intersected  by   a 
return  of  The  Grail,  and  then  expanding  magnificently. 

A  mysterious  roll  of  the  drums,  succeeded  by  a  pro- 
longed tremolo  of  the  strings,  announces  and  accompanies 
the  reappearance  of  The  Eucharist  with  new  and  curious 
harmonies,  from  which  stands  forth  a  motiv  formed  of 
four  of  its   notes,  typifying   The  Lance,  which   will   con- 

THE    LANCE 


stantly  reappear  in  all  portions  of  the  work,  except  in 
the  Prelude  of  the  second  act  and  in  the  scene  of  the 
Flower-Maidens.  Although  very  short,  it  is  easily  recog- 
nized, being  frequently  orchestrated  in  a  striking  and 
incisive  manner  which   at   once  attracts  attention. 

[These  four  m  >ttve,   The  Eucharist,    The  Grail,  Faith,  and 
The  Lane  -  with  a  fifth  which  will  soon  appear  (  The 

Promise),  constitute   the  religious  and  to  some  extent  liturgical 


OF    RICHARD    WAGNER 


445 


element  which  predominates  in  the  first  and  third  acts.  Of 
these  important  motive,  Faith  is  the  only  one  which  undergoes 
harmonic  and  rhythmic  transformations  which  might  prevent  our 
recognizing  it  at  first  sight,  of  which  it  is  well  tube  warned; 
this  is  why  I  give  it  below  under  the  various  aspects  it  assumes 
from  the  beginning  of  the  first  act  (in  bars  34,  134,  404,  and 
486),  always  in  the  role  of  Gurncmanz,  the  knight  of  robust 
faith,  whose  favourite  theme  it  naturally  is.] 

Gurnemanz 

['If 


j   hhHrffl  r 


446  THE   MUSIC    DRAMAS 

Gurnemanz 


After  a  short  development  of  The  Lance,  the  motiv  of 
The  Eucharist  forms  a  connecting  link  between  the 
Prelude  and  the  first  act. 


Act    I. 

As  Parsifal  is  not  divided  into  scenes,  for  the  sake 
of  facilitating  the  analysis  we  must  establish  arbitrary 
demarcations  between  the  various  parts  of  the  con- 
tinuous acts. 

Let  us  divide  the  first  act  into  three  parts:  I,  from 
the  beginning  to  Parsifal's  arrival ;  '2,  from  Parsifal's 
arrival  to  the  change  of  scene ;  3,  the  scene  in  the 
temple. 

The  motive  of  The  Eucharist,  The  Grail,  Faith,  and 
again  The  Eucharist  give  the  signal  for  waking  and  the 
morning  prayer.  The  dialogue  begins  between  Gurne- 
manz and  two  of  his  youthful  companions,  two  Esquires 
of  the  Grail  ;  here  the  orchestra  presents  Faith  under 
the  first  transformation  given  above  (in  B  major),  and, 
four  bars  farther  on,  a  grievous  bass  figure  tells  us  of  the 
physical  Suffering  of  the  King,  Amfortas,  who  comes 
down,  borne  on  a  litter,  to  take  the  bath  which  alone  can 
afford   him   momentary   relief: 


OF    RICHARD    WAGNER 


447 


Gurnemanz 


SUFFERING 


At  the  65th  bar  of  the  act,  the  orchestra  expressively, 
but  slightly  as  yet,  indicates  the  motlv  of  The  Promise, 
which  will  be  more  fully  given  two  pages  later.  (See 
p.  449). 

A  rustling  of  leaves  which  gives  us  the  sensation  of  a 
wild  ride  is  heard,  followed  by  the  harsh  and  excited 
rhythm  of  The  Gallop,  which,  after  having  continued  for 

THE    GALLOP 


several  bars,  growing  louder  and  nearer,  ends  in  a  sort 
of  convulsive  laughter,  which  almost  always  accompanies 
the  appearance  of  the  strange  character  of  Kundry. 


KUNDRY 


448 


THE   MUSIC   DRAMAS 


The  painful  moth  of  the  King's  corporeal  Suffering 
and  the  violent  motive  of  The  Gallop  and  Kundry's  savage 
laughter,  coming  after  the  grave  and  solemn  harmonies 
of  the  Prelude,  produce  an  effect  of  striking  contrast. 

One  of  less  importance,  accompanying  Kundry's  few 
rude  and  broken  words,  is  associated  with  the  idea  of 
The  Balm  which  she  has  been  to  fetch  from  the  wilds 
of  Arabia  without  any  orders  from  her  superior. 


THE    BALM 


Kundry 


^^ 


§= 


f 


n 


Amfortas's  train  is  approaching  ;  we  recognize  in  the 
orchestra  Suffering,  Faith,  in  a  second  transformation 
(p.  444  in  D  flat),  and  a  fragme.it  of  The  Eucharist. 
Suffering  returns,  but  it  seems  lessened  by  the  coming 
of  the   charming  moth  of  The  Breeze,  the  invigorating 


THE    BREEZE 


t*  jm.f..  A  1     ,1.  J, 


OF    RICHARD    WAGNER 


449 


breeze,  which  for  a  moment  alleviates  the  pain  of  the 
unfortunate  Amfortas,  and  ends  with  the  last  notes  of 
The  Eucharist. 

[The  motiv  of  The  Breeze,  will  be  found  slightly  indicated 
in  the  third  act,  shortly  after  Parsifal's  arrival  at  Gurnemanz's 
hut,  but  its  form  is  changed  into  E  major  and   | .  J 

Parsifal 


Some  notes  of  the  Kind's  recital  introduce  us  to   the 
prophetic  theme  of  The  Promise^  on  the  faith  of  which 

THE    PROMISE 


Amfortas 


450 


THE   MUSIC   DRAMAS 


he  awaits  a  saviour,  who  can  be  none  but  a  "  Guileless 
Fool,  whose  own  heart  alone  instructs  him  !  " 

The  flask  which  Gurnemanz  gives  him  recalls  the 
moth  of  The  Balm,  with  that  of  The  Gallop  and  Kun- 
dry's  sinister  laughter;  while  the  latter,  in  her  wild  way, 
rejects  the  King's  thanks,  mysterious  and  tortuous 
figures  bristling  with  chromatic  notes  reveal  to  us  some- 
what of  her  strange  nature  ;  they  end  with  a  still  more 
violent  recurrence  of  the  nervous  laugh.  The  train 
having  resumed  its  march,  to  the  groanings  of  the  cruel 
Suffering,  which  however  is  tempered  by  The  Breeze, 
the  conversation  again  becomes  affectionate  and  confi- 
dential between  the  knight  Gurnemanz  and  the  young 
esquires  who  are  eager  for  instruction.  What  can  be 
the  subject  of  conversation  ?  The  Holy  Grail,  the 
subject  of  every  thought  of  the  pious  Knights ;  Kundry's 
strange  and  enigmatical  ways  and  her  still  recent  Gallop; 
The  Eucharist,  which  forms  the  symbolic  base  of  the 
worship  of  the  Grail  ;  The  Promise  of  a  new  Redeemer, 
who  will  come  to  deliver  the  King  from  his  torture; 
The  Magic,  which  with  its  evil  spells  and  machinations 
opposes  the  purity  of  the  holy  religion  of  the  Grail,  The 
Lance  and  Faith,  which  are  summed  up  in  one  word, 
The   Eucharist. 

MAGIC 


Gurnemanz 


fti-  J>  1  JU-  ft, 


OF    RICHARD   WAGNER 


45J 


[The  theme  of  Magic,  as  well  as  Klingsor,  which  follows, 
will  appear  in  their  full  development  in  the  second  act  ;  they 
only  figure  here  as  episodes,  for  the  purpose  of  annotating  the 
story.] 

A  brief  return  of  Suffering,  lightened  by  The  Breeze, 
occurs  at  the  moment  when  two  of  the  Esquires,  return- 
ing from  the  lake,  as  they  pass  by  give  news  of  the 
King;  then  the  good  Gurnemanz  continues  to  instruct 
his  pupils,  this  time  with  fresh  explanations  of  Faith, 
The  Grail,  The  Eucharist,  and  The  Lance  (all  these 
motive  coming  in  the  order  named),  he  tells  them  who 
Klingsor  is. 

KLINGSOR 

Gurnemanz 


He  speaks  of  his  infamy,  the  seductions  with  which 
he  tries  to  corrupt  the  holy  Knights,  the  use  he  makes 
of  Magic  (here  in  the  orchestra   rapidly  pass  the  motive 


452 


THE    MUSIC    DRAMAS 


of  Kundry,  and  the  Flower-Maidens,  Klingsor's  tools), 
and,  finally,  how  the  wretched  Amfortas,  in  his  attempt 
to  fight  him,  became  his  victim,  losing  at  once  his 
chastity  and  the  sacred  Lance,  in  addition  to  receiving  the 
terrible  wound  "  which  nothing  can  close,"  except,  as 
has  been  prophetically  revealed,  by  the  intervention  of 
the  "  pure  and  simple,"  the  subject  of  The  Promise. 
Marvelling  and  saddened  at  the  story,  the  Esquires  are 
repeating  in  chorus  the  motiv  of  The  Promise,  when  a 
startling  flourish,  this  time  restricted  to  its  first  three 
notes,  but  which  will  later  be  recognized  as  the  personal 
motiv  of  Parsifal,  followed  by  shouts  and  cries  of  terror, 
puts  an  end  to  the  conversation. 


Parsifal 


PARSIFAL 


MtM 


i 


fefe 


9—fr 


s 


m 


f 


m 


& 


m 


[When  Parsifal  reappears  in  his  black  armour,  at   the  begin- 
ning of  Act  III.,  this   motiv  is  in  B-flat  minor  ;  and  when,   at 


the  last,  having  in  his  turn  become  Priest-King  and  Master  of 
the  Grail,  he  performs  the  miracle  of  healing  the  King's  wound, 
It  a    nines  this  particularly  triumphal  form  :] 


OF   RICHARD    WAGNER 


453 


Here  begins  the  second  part  of  the  act.  Parsifal, 
ignorant  of  the  law  of  The  Grail,  which  requires  that 
animal  life  shall  be  held  sacred  within  its  domains,  has 
just  killed  a  swan  ;  the  profanation  is  the  cause  of  all 
the  outcry.  The  dying  swan  is  brought  to  the  good 
Gurnemanz,  who  questions  and  severely  reprimands  the 
unconscious  offender.  At  the  first  notes  of  his  reply,  his 
character  is  revealed  to  us  in  all  its  simplicity. 


To  the  themes  of  The  Eucharist  (scarcely  indicated), 
Faith,  which  always  accompanies  Gurnemanz's  words, 
and  the  healing  Breeze,  there  is  here  added  a  new  theme, 
consisting  of  two  chords  only,  which  in  Wagner's  mind 
is  clearly  associated  with  the  idea  of  The  Swan,  since  he 
has  already  made  use  of  it  in  Lohengrin  : 

THE    SWAN 


|JV»»-J 

—a m- 

■\    -p. 

/ "S^k 

Sb= 

y)*{*i  ff-~    ~u    ~  ~        - 

&— = 

Affected  by  the  paternal  reproaches  of  the  good  Knight, 
Parsifal  breaks  his  bow  and  casts  away  his  arrows. 
Gurnemanz,  continuing  his  inquiries,  can  get  nothing 
out  of  him,  unless,  indeed,  he  remembers  his  mother, 
which  is  doubtless  intended  by  the  sad  and  gentle  tnotiv 
of  Herzeleide  : 


454 


THE    MUSIC    DRAMAS 

HERZELEIDE 


Parsifal 


ii-t.A.i    <^M    J> 


^.  U  t,rj 


(The  Grieving  Heart,  or  the  Unhappy  Woman,  accord- 
ing to  the  commentators.)  The  moth  of  The  Swan  re- 
appears in  between,  in  the  few  touching  and  solemn  bars 
which  it  is  customary  to  call  "  The  Funeral  March  of 
the  Swan." 

When  Kundry,  a  little  later,  helping  him  to  gather 
together  his  recollections,  informs  him  of  his  mother's 
death,  we  find  The  Gallop,  several  gleams  of  Parsifal, 
and  then  Herzeleide ;  when  he  Hies  at  the  throat  of  the 
wild  woman,  there  is  a  strong  but  dissonant  crash  of  the 
moth  of  Parsifal,  succeeded  by  a  sad  memory  of  Herze- 
leide;  when  Parsifal  faints  and  Kundry  runs  to  fetch  him 
some  water,  The    Gallop   returns,  followed   by  the  fata/ 


OF    RICHARD   WAGNER 


45  5 


laughter ,  when  she  offers  him  this  water,  this  restora- 
tive, she  is  inspired  by  The  Grail  and  the  idea  of  The 
Balm  intervenes  ;  it  is  the  ministering  Kundry,  but  she 
is  soon  surrounded  by  the  Satanic  motive,  Magic  and  its 
practices  and  Klingsor  who  is  already  calling  her :  she 
shudders,  tries  to  stand  erect,  falls  down  in  convulsions, 
and  sinks  into  a  heavy  sleep. 

Then  the  moving  scenery  gives  us  the  impression  that 
we  are  accompanying  Gurnemanz  and  Parsifal  in  the 
ascent  of  Montsalvat ;  in  these  almost  exclusively  sym- 
phonic pages  the  principal  moth  of  which  announces 
the  chiming  of  Bells  of  the  Grail,  we  necessarily  find  all 
the  themes  of  a  religious  character,  and,  in  addition,  the 
mournful  and  characteristic  figure  of  The  Cry  to  the 
Saviour : 

THE    CRY    TO    THE    SAVIOUR 


W'i>  or     |  j>         p 


i  pJr-fzr: 


x  H. 


i 


Towards  the  end  of  this  interlude,  the  moth  of  The  Eu- 
charist, at  which  we  are  about  to  be  present,  assumes  a 
predominating   importance,  till   the    moment   when    The 


456  THE    MUSIC    DRAMAS 

Bells  (see  p.  472  ),  ringing  out  in  full  peal,  introduce  us 
into  the  sanctuary  itself.  Throughout  this  third  part  of 
the  act,  Parsifal  will  remain  motionless,  as  though  petri- 
fied with  astonishment,  with  his  back  to  the  audience, 
silently  contemplating  the  impressive  and  touching  scene 
of  the  Office  of  the  Holy  Grail. 

To  a  marked  rhythm  which  keeps  time  to  the  ringing 
of  The  Bells,  the  Knights,  answering  the  call  of  The 
Grail,  come  in  and  solemnly  range  themselves  around 
the  tables  ;  to  the  same  rhythm,  but  doubling  the  pace, 
young  Esquires,  more  alert,  enter  in  their  turn  and  take 
their  place.  Voices  of  Youths,  forming  a  three-part 
chorus,  placed  half-way  up  the  dome,  give  forth  The  Cry 
to  the  Saviour,  which  is  accompanied  in  the  orchestra  by 
some  notes  of  The  Lance,  followed  by  the  harmony  of 
The  Grail.  Another  four-part  chorus  of  Children  sta- 
tioned at  the  top  of  the  dome,  in  turn  sings  the  theme  of 
Faith,  treated  as  a  choral.  (This  curious  superposition  of 
three  choruses  at  different  heights,  the  men  on  the  floor 
of  the  temple,  the  youths  half-way  up,  and  the  children 
at  the  top,  which  produces  a  most  striking  effect,  had 
been  tried  by  Wagner  long  before,  in  1843,  in  the 
Church  of  Our  Lady  at  Dresden,  in  his  Das  Liebesmahl 
der  Apostel.} 

Titurel's  voice,  issuing  from  the  depths  of  a  kind 
of  crypt,  commands  his  son  to  perform  the  holy  sacri- 
fice ;  Amfortas,  to  the  motiv  of  The  Cry  to  the  Saviour, 
begs  to  be  relieved  of  the  task  ;  but  Titurel,  supported 
by  two  sacred  recalls  of  The  Grail,  orders  the  sacred 
vessel  to  be  uncovered.  Then  begin  the  terrible  agonies 
of  the  unhappv  fallen  Priest-King,  tortures  far  more 
moral  than  physical,  which  bring  back  sharp*  memories 
of  Kundry,  mingled  with  the  sacred  themes  of  The  Grail, 
The   Eucharist,  The    Cry  to  the   Saviour,  and    The   Lance, 


OF    RICHARD    WAGNER  457 

with  v  hich  the  Satanic  motiv  of  Magic  is  at  war,  while 
he  describes  to  us  the  cruel  sufferings  he  endures  every 
time  he  is  fo  ccd  to  exercise  his  priestly  functions. 
From  th  -  choir  of  the  Youths  mysteriously  falls  a  mem- 
ory of  The  Promise  ;  the  Knights  insist  that  the  unfor- 
tunate man  shall  fulfil  his  duty,  and  Titurel's  voice  more 
imperatively  commands  The  Grail  to  be  uncovered. 

Then  The  Eucharist  is  heard  in  all  its  majesty,  almost 
in  the  same  orchestral  arrangement  as  at  the  beginning 
of  .the  Prelude,  except  that  the  violins  are  supplanted  by 
the  Children's  voices,  which  seem  to  come  from  the  sky 
with  the  words  of  Consecration.  In  the  meantime  the 
miracle  is  accomplished. 

The  Bells  are  again  heard  ;  then  the  three  choirs,  first 
the  Children,  next  the  Youths,  and  lastly  the  Knights, 
sing  a  psalm  of  thanksgiving  Then,  by  an  inverse 
arrangement,  first  the  Knights,  then  the  Youths,  and  finally 
the  Children  raise  their  voices  in  a  sort  of  formula  of 
faith,  hope,  and  charity,  which  is  harm  nized  by  the 
theme  of  The  Grail,  and  is  lost  in  the  heights  of  the 
dome. 

The  King's  train  withdraws,  and  then  the  Knights, 
and  the  troops  of  Youths  again  marching  with  a  more 
active  step,  escorted  by  the  same  motive  which  accom- 
panied their  entrance  and  the  chime  of  The  Bells  of  the 
Grail. 

Gurnemanz  and  Parsifal  being  left  alone,  the  orches- 
tra, in  a  singularly  expressive  combination,  recalls  the 
motive  of  The  Promise,  The  Cry  to  the  Saviour,  Parsifal,  and 
The  Swan  ;  and  when  Gurnemanz,  after  having  turned 
Parsifal  out,  has  himself  retired  and  the  stage  is  deserted, 
a  prophetical  voice  is  heard  in  a  repetition  of  The  Promise, 
to  which  the  voices  of  the  dome  reply,  like  a  celestial 
echo,  with  The  Grail  and  The  Lance. 


458  THE   MUSIC   DRAMAS 

Act  II. 

Following  our  methods  in  the  first  act,  we  shall  divide 
the  present  one  into  the  three  parts  which  naturally  pre- 
sent themselves:  I,  the  evocation  of  Kundry;  2,  the 
Flower-Maidens;  3,  the  scene  between  Kundry  and 
Parsifal,  and  the  latter's  victory  over  Klingsor. 

The  Prelude  is  entirely  one  with  the  scene ;  if  it  were 
not  for  The  Cry  to  the  Saviour,  which  is  not  immediately 
explicable,  it  would  be  entirely  made  up  of  the  diabolical 
motive  of  Klingsor,  Magic,  and  Kundry :  the  evocation 
occurs  to  Magic  and  Klingsor,  but  Kundry's  appearance 
brings  back  The  Cry  to  the  Saviour,  the  sole  and  supreme 
aspiration  of  the  unhappy  victim  of  the  curse ;  desper- 
ately she  clings  to  it,  seeking  by  this  ardent  prayer  to 
free  herself  from  the  influence  of  the  magician.  Each 
of  these  useless  efforts  is  accented  by  a  wild  cry  of  Kun- 
dry, the  wild  woman  whose  terrible  destiny  it  is  to  be 
alternately  subject  to  the  infernal  powers  and  to  the 
sweet   influences  of  the  holv  temple. 

Klingsor  reminds  her  of  their  numerous  victories, 
among  others,  The  Lance,  which,  thanks  to  her,  he  has 
succeeded  in  capturing,  and  tells  her  of  the  fresh  victim 
whom  he  has  in  store  for  her  for  to-day  :  "  A  Guileless 
Fool,"  personified  by  the  motiv  of  The  Promise.  The 
remainder  of  this  scene,  during  which  Kundry  does  not 
cease  to  maintain  a  useless  struggle  against  the  dominat- 
ing will  of  the  magician,  gives  rise  to  frequent  returns 
of  the  preceding  motive,  mingled  with  memories  of  the 
Suffering  of  Amfortas,  over  which  the  odious  enchanter 
gloats ;  of  The  Grail,  the  power  of  which  he  hopes  to 
gain ;  and  then  Parsifal's  theme  is  heard.  Klingsor, 
climbing   up   to   the  battlements   of  his   tower,  joyfully 


OF    RICHARD    WAGNER 


459 


watches  him  overthrow  all  the  defenders  of  his  castle, 
whom  he  excites  to  the  combat,  while  Parsifal  continues 
to  advance,  accompanied  sometimes  by  his  own  theme, 
Parsifal,  and  sometimes  by  that  which  symbolizes  his 
character  and  his  unconscious  mission,  The  Promise. 
Meanwhile,  Kundry,  finally  brought  to  submission,  has 
disappeared  to  prepare  for  her  role  of  seduction. 

Second  Tableau  :  the  Flower-Maidens.  To  the 
above  dark  and  sinister  scene,  by  one  of  those  violent 
contrasts  which  Wagner  is  always  fond  of,  there  instan- 
taneously follows  the  picture  of  the  Enchanted  Gardens, 
seductive,  if  not  by  its  scenery,  at  least  by  its  action  and 
music,  a  place  of  perdition  especially  created  by  Klingsor 
for  the  Knights  of  the  Grail.  There,  seductive  and 
perfidious  creatures,  half-women,  half-flowers,  are  about 
to  put  our  chaste  hero  to  various  proofs  for  which  he  is 
not  in  the  least  prepared.  After  his  arrival,  in  terror, 
thev  utter  their  Plaint  in  a  very  close  dialogue,  in  which 
this  characteristic  figure  frequently  occurs  : 


PLAINT    OF    THE    FLOWER-MAIDENS 

Flower-Maidens 


their  only  thought  is  to  bewail  the  aggression  which  has  just 
spread  destruction  among  their  lovers,  Klingsor's  slaves; 
but,  immediately  Parsifal  appears,  their  conduct  changes, 
and   they  no  longer  think  of  am  thing   but  allurement; 


460 


THE   MUSIC    DRAMAS 


the  Plaint  gradually  dies  away  and  gives  place  to  motivt 
full  of  grace  and  charm,  among  which  several  pervading 
forms,  such  as  the  following,  intertwine  in  the  most  vol- 
uptuous and  brilliant  manner.  Half  singing  and  half 
dancing  (posturing),  The  Flotuer- Mai  dens  many  times 
renew  the  attack,  which  is  always  repulsed  by  Parsifal 
with  a  gentleness  which  is  not  free  from  a  certain  curi- 
osity, quite  excusable  in  view  of  such   provoking  entice- 

THE    FLOWER-MAIDENS 

Flower-Maidens 


±—n&  i-^rma—-n3 


■uj— - JT7J1 


gfeM 


^W 


m  i 


t^bJ  qi 


do  Ice 


+^~±= 


n 


OF   RICHARD   WAGNER 

1st  Group. 


461 


ments  ;  whence  arise  frequent  interwea*  trigs  of  the  typical 
moth  of  the  chaste  hero  and  those,  so  full  of  teasing 
playfulness,  of  the  seductive  beauties: 


462 


THE    MUSIC    DRAMAS 


Parsifal 


Plaint  of  the  Flower-Maidens. 
3 


It  is  then  that  Kundry  takes  a  hand  ;  now,  also,  the 
name  of  Parsifal  is  pronounced  Tor  the  first  time,  and  the 
notes  to  which  it  is  spoken  are  none  other  than  those  of 
The  Promise.  The  perfidious  enchantress  begins  by 
softening  his  heart  with  a  long  conversation  about  his 
mother,  Herzeleide,  after  having  sent  away  the  sportive 
band,  whose  Plaint  we  again  recognize. 

The  great  scene  of  seduction,  highly  developed  and  of 
extreme  importance  in  the  work,  makes  use  of  several 
of  those  themes  we  already  know,  and  introduces  us  to 
two  new  ones  ;  the  order  in  which  they  occur  is  mainiv 
as  follows :  The  Promise,  which  personifies  the  chaste 
and  pure  character  of  the  hero;  The  Lance,  which  he 
has  found  again ;  Magic,  which  seeks  to  enfold  him ; 
llrzeleide  and  Herzeleide's  Grief  (which  is  often  called 
Herzeleide' s   Second  Motiv). 


HERZELEIDE'S    GRIEF 


OF    RICHARD    WAGNER 


4f>3 


Next  appears  the  motiv  proper  to  Kundry ;  her  kiss 
belongs  to  Magic;  but  Parsifal  immediately  remembers 
The  Eucharist^  at  which  he  was  present,  and  The  Cry  to 
the  Saviour,  and  he  understands  Kundry's  odious  role; 
Amfortas's  Suffering  comes  into  his  mind  with  The  Grail 
and  The  Lance.  All  these  motive,  powerfully  developed, 
struggle  with  those  of  Magic  and  Kundry,  whom  he  recog- 
nizes as  the  one  who  has  ruined  the  King.  She  herself 
reveals  her  psychical  nature  to  him,  the  curse  which  weighs 
upon  her,  and  the  sin  by  which  she  has  deserved  this  chas- 
tisement :  that  she  saw  the  Saviour  (  The  Eucharist}  on 
the'day  of  his  crucifixion  {Good  Friday}  \  that  she  laughed 


Kundry 


GOOD    FRIDAY 


(Kundry),  that  she  is  the  cause  of  the  agony  of  Amfortas 
(Suffering)^  and  that  she  acts  under  the  compulsion  of  the 
spells  of  a  magician  (Klingsor  and  Magic).  Parsifal  prom- 
ises Kundry  that  she  shall  be  redeemed  (The  Promise  and 
Faith);  she,  becoming  more  and  more  passionate,  again 
displays  all  her  seductive  wiles,  she  begs  him  (Plaint  of 
the  Flower-Maidens),  she  threatens  him,  pursues  him 
(The  Gallop),  and  tries  to  take  him  in  her  arms  by  force 
(Kundry).     Suddenly   Klingsor  appears,  brandishing    / 

•  Wt  must  be  very  careful  not  t<>  confound  this  motiv  with  the 
Spell  of  Good  Friday  (sec  p.  46SJ,  which  is  "i  an  entirely  different 
character. 


464 


THE    MUSIC    DRAMAS 


Lance  and  menacing  Parsifal  with  it ;  but  the  weapon 
remains  suspended  motionless  above  the  head  of  the  lat- 
ter, who  seizes  it  and  traces  the  sign  of  the  cross  [The 
(trail)}  At  this  sign  the  Gardens  crumble  away,  the 
magic  flowers  wither,  and  Klingsor  falls  dead. 

We  see  with  what  wonderful  art  the  Leit-motive  are 
manipulated  in  this  great  scene,  the  moving  incidents  of 
which,  thanks  to  them,  we  can  follow  step  by  step,  even 
if  we  are  ignorant  of  the  language  or  cannot  distinguish 
the  words. 

Act  III. 

This  last  act  is  of  itself  divided  into  two  tableaux  : 
1,  the  hut  of  the  old  knight,  Gurnemanz,  in  the  do- 
mains of  The  Grail ;   2,    the  scene  in  the  Temple. 

This  Prelude,  which  is  also  intimately  connected  with 
the  action,  from  the  very  beginning  shows  us  one  of  the 
aspects,  at  once  smiling  and  forbidding,  of  the  district 
around  the    castle    of  Montsalvat,   that   of  The   Desert, 

THE    DESERT 


'     I  1  I 


1  At  the  very  moment  when  Kling- 
sor throws  the  sacred  weapon  at  Parsi- 
fal, a  curious  orchestral  effect  must  be 
pointed  out  to  the  attentive  listener:  to 
produce  the  impression  of  the  ac/iiz- 
Ztng  of  The  Lance  through  the  air, 
Wagner  employs  a  long  glissando  on 
the  harps,  two  octaves  in  extent,  which 
is  singularly  descriptive. 


OF    RICHARD    WAGNER 


465 


where  the  pious  servant  of  The  Grail  has  established  his 
retreat,  as  well  as  the  subjects  of  his  constant  meditation, 
the  enigmatical  Kundry,  The  Promise  of  a  new  redeemer, 
the  enchantments  of  Magic,  The  Lance  which  only  a 
"Guileless  Pool"  can  regain,  the* Satanic  role  of  the 
Flower-Maidens  (represented  by  their  Plaint)  and  of  the 
sorcerer  Klingsor.  Gurnemanz's  attention  is  attracted 
by  groans  which  seem  to  come  from  a  bush,  and  which 
his   piety  leads   him  to   regard  in  the  light   of  Expiation: 


EXPIATION 


in  fact,  beneath  the  brambles,  he  discovers  the  motionless 
body  of  Kundry,  still  under  the  influence  of  Magic.  He 
succeeds  in  restoring  her  to  animation,  and  as  she  awakes 
from  her  hypnotic  sleep  with  a  memory  of  the  Plaint, 
although  henceforth  under  the  influence  of  The  Grail, 
she  utters  a  loud  cry,  which  carries  out  in  a  sinister 
manner  the  fantastic  figure  of  the  laughter  of  Kundry;  a 
recurrence  of  The  Balm  clearly  shows  that  we  are  now 
in  the  presence  of  the  beneficent  and  repentant  Kundry. 
Gurnemanz,  however,  remarks  a  change  in  her  conduct, 
which  he  attributi  s  to  the  sanctitv  a\'  this  dav,  consecrated 
above  all  others  to  The  Grail,  Good  Friday.  W  hile 
busying  herself  with  occupations  which  seem  quite  cus- 
tomary to  her,  she  warns  Gurnemanz  with  a  sign  that  a 
stranger  is  approaching  from  the-  forest.  The  orchestra 
immediately  informs  us  who  the  stranger  is  :   it  is  Pan:- 


466 


THE   MUSIC    DRAMAS 


fal,  clad  in  his  black  armour,  with  his  vizor  lowered,  so 
that  Gurnemanz  does  not  recognize  him.  He,  however, 
kindly  wel<  jmes  him  with  the  salutation  of  The  Grail, 
and  informs  him  that  on  this  day  of  Good  Friday  people 
must  not  walk  armed  within  the  sacred  domain.  Parsi- 
fal then  takes  ofF  his  armour  and  arranges  it  as  a  kind 
of  trophy,  piously  kneeling  before  it.  Then  both  Gur- 
nemanz and  Kundry  recognize  him,  which  necessarily 
brings  back  the  sacred  motive  of  The  Eucharist,  The 
Lance,  on  which  Gurnemanz  gazes  with  fervent  emo- 
tion, The  Promise,  The  Cry  to  'the  Saviour,  Good  Fridav, 
and,  the  moment  Parsifal  concludes  his  prayer,  The 
Grail. 

Here,  under  certain  words  of  the  old  Knight,  appears 
a  short  melodic  figure  which  will  return  somewhat  fre- 
quently, and  which  may  be  considered  as  a  new  aspect 
of  the  surrounding  country,  The  Second  Form  of  The 
Desert :   eight  bars  farther  on,  notice  a  sweet  and  delight- 

THE  SECOND  FORM  OF  THE  DESERT 


ful  return  of  The  Breeze.  All  the  motive  which  are  in- 
terwoven during  the  rest  of  the  scene  are  now  too  well 
known  to  the  reader  to  need  being  mentioned  ;  also  during 
the  essentially  Biblical  or  rather  evangelical  scene,  when 
Kundry  washes  Parsifal's  feet  and  Gurnemanz  conse- 
crates and  anoints  him  King  of  the  Grail,  we  necessarily 
find  all  the  sacred  themes,  with  a  few  rare  allusions  to 
those  of  a  demoniac  nature,  such  as  that  of  the  Plaint  of 


OF    RICHARD    WAGNER 


467 


the  Flower-Maidens,  which  now  becomes  the  Plaint  of 
Kundry.  When  Parsifal  in  his  turn  baptizes  the  sinner, 
Faith  is  the  dominant  theme;  the  sinister  fit  of  nervous 
laughter  is  silenced  and  will  never  appear  again. 

Immediately  after  the  baptism,  a  delightful  phrase,  a 
pervading  figure,  full  of  the  most  divine  sweetness  and 
grace,  gently  forces  itself  upon  our  attention  (it  has 
been  already  announced  in  a  vague  way  and  with  a  syn- 
copated rhythm  in  the  key  of  A-flat,  as  I  reproduce  it 
here,  shortly  after  the  opening  of  the  act,  on   Parsifal's 


arrival,  when  Kundry  tells  Gurnemanz  that  a  stranger  is 
approaching) ;  without  absolute!','  constituting  a  Leit- 
motiv, for  only  one  allusion  will  be  subsequently  made  to 
it,  it  is  of  very  great  importance  in  this  scene,  over  which 
it  spreads  an  intense  feeling  of  calm  and  sweet  reflection  ; 
it  is  called  The  Spell  (or  The  Enchantment)  of  Good  Friday.1 
In  the  course  of  this  suave  and  placid  episode,  while 
Gurnemanz  is  explaining  to  his  new  King  how  this  day, 

1  It  is  also  sometimes  called  T-he  Flowering  Meadow).     It  was 

written  long  before  the  rest  of  the  score. 


4.68  THE    MUSIC    DRAMAS 

THE  SPELL  OF  GOOD  FRIDAY 


b££ 


PS 


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jft  c  r  i- 


5^g 


,CTJS 


which  most  people  consider  as  fatal  and  cursed,  is  at 
Montsalvat,  on  the  contrary,  regarded  as  the  day  of  su- 
preme blessing,  we  find  again  in  the  orchestral  web : 
Expiation  many  times  repeated,  The  Eucharist,  Good 
Friday,  The  Cry  to  the  Saviour,  The  Grail,  The  Plaint  of 
the  Flower-Maidens  (Kundrv's  Plaint),  and  finally  The 
Promise.  But  what  is  particularly  interesting  is  that  we 
here  find  that  employment  so  characteristic  of  the  Wag- 
nerian style  of  the  harmonic  and  melodic  progression 
which  is  found  in  the  two  Choruses  of  Pilgrims  in  Tann- 
bauser,  to  which  I  have  already  called  attention  (p.  270). 
We  must  not  regard  this  either  as  a  fortuitous  resem- 
blance or  a  simple  reminiscence  ;    when  we  have  identical 


OF    RICHARD    WAGNER 


469 


sentiments  it  is  rational  to  employ  an  identical  mode  of 
expression,  and  that  is  what  the  composer  has  unhesitat- 
ingly done : 


Gurnemanz 


The  Bells  of  Montsalvat  are  calling  us  to  the  holy 
place.  As  in  the  first  act,  moving  scenery  conducts  us 
theie.      We  arrive  even  in  advance  of  the  characters. 

There,  with  the  same  scenery  as  in  the  first  act,  we 
first  see  two  processions,  —  one  bearing  Titurel's  coffin, 
the  other  Amfortas's  litter;  and  again  the  latter  is  called 
upon  by  all  the  Knights  once  more  to  fulfil  his  priestly 
functions,  but  neither  The  Cry  to  the  Saviour,  nor  Faith, 
nor  The  Eucharist  and  Good  Friday  can  induce  him  to 
perform  them  ;  the  Suffering  he  has  to  endure  fills  him 
with  terror. 

It  is  then  that  Parsifal  appears  followed  bv  Gurne- 
manz and  Kundrv,  and  with  a  still  better  escort  in  the 
sacred  motive  of  The  Grail  and  of  The  Lance  which  he 
holds  in  his  hand.  With  the  point  of  the  sacred  weapon 
he  touches  the  dreadful  wound, and  Suffering  vanishes  in 
the  theme  of  The  Promise,  which  is  now  fulfilled. 

The  motiv  of  Parsifal  then  sounds  triumphantly,  fol- 
lowed by  Faith  and  The  Lance,  and,  in  his  turn,  he  com- 
mands:  "Let  the  Holy  Grail  be  uncovered."  Then  in 
his  hands  the  miracle  is  repeated;   amid  sparkling  arpeg- 


470 


THE    MUSIC    DRAMAS 


gios  are  heard  the  themes  of  The  Grail,  The  Eucharist, 
Faith,  and  the  choir  of  three  stages,  now  united,  chant  in 
a  mighty  Alleluia  :  "  Salvation  to  (Parsifal),  the  Saviour." 
Then  come  the  motive  of  Faith,  and  lastly  The 
Eucharist,  majestically  terminating  the  symphonic  epi- 
logue,  "  Strong  is  Desire ;   but  still  stronger  is  Resistance." 

(R.  Wagner.) 

In  the  course  of  the  work  we  may  still  gather  a  cer- 
tain number  of  secondary  themes,  which  have  more  or 
less  the  character  of  Leit-motive,  but  which  it  is  not  in- 
dispensable for  us.  to  know  in  order' to  understand  the 
work,  because  they  occur  merely  as  episodes.  I  here 
offer  a  few  only,  with  the  sole  aim  of  facilitating  re- 
search, only  repeating  that,  having  once  begun,  here,  as 
elsewhere,  a  much  greater  number  of  them  may  be  dis- 
covered : 

Ardour,  which  only  appears  in  the  second  part  of  the 
Duet  between  Kundry  and  Parsifal,  in  the  second  act : 


ARDOUR 


Kundry 


Resignation,  which  is  merely  outlined  a  few  pages 
farther  on,  but  which  we  find,  in  the  exact  form  given 
below,  in  the  first  scene  of  the  third  act,  where  Kundry 
is  bringing  some  water  to  the  fainting  Parsifal  : 


OF    RICHARD    WAGNER 

RESIGNATION 


471 


jA»  ^ 


bJJ^    |,U    hJ 


^^ 


&- 


s 


fr<g 


Benediction,  which  immediately  succeeds  the  preceding 

motiv : 

BENEDICTION 


Gurnemanz's  Lamentations  over  Titurel's  death,  which 
are  only  separated  from  The  Benediction  by  26  bars,  and 
will  be  found  at  the  first  words  of  the  chorus  of  Knights 
(in  the  last  tableau)  : 

LAMENTATIONS 


The  Bells  of  Mohtsalvat,  whose  grave  and  solemn  ring- 
ing almost  always  accompanies  the  religious   ceremonies, 


472 


THE    MUSIC    DRAMAS 


which,  by  an  entirely  natural  transformation,  becomes 
the  march  rhythm  to  which  the  Knights  of  the  Holy 
Grail  defile  past,  etc. 

THE    BELLS    OF    MONTSALVAT 


S 


±±±=±3 


8*Hassa 


In  ending  this  brief  analysis  of  the  style  which  Wagner 
created  with  the  ringing  of  the  bells  cf  Montsalvat,  I  .can- 
not help  drawing  attention  here  (which  will  strengthen 
what  has  already  been  said  on  pp.  239,  244,  245,  250, 
251,  271,  273,  344  and  others,  and  which  will  now  be 
better  understood)  to  what  may  be  called  the  roots  of  the 
Wagnerian  musical  language. 

If  we  compare  certain  very  characteristic  motive  with 
each  other : 

The  Bells  of  Montsalvat 

which  serves  as  a  march  for  the  Knights, 

IVaking  Love 

of  The  Meistersinger, 

The  Beating 

of  the  second  act  of  the  same  work, 

The  IValfz,  of  the  Apprentices  .   .    . 
of  the  third  act, 

The  Love  of  Life 

in  Siegfried, 

and  The  Decision  to  Love 

also  in  Siegfried,  third  act,  we  are  struck  by  the  analogy 
of  the  structure  which  thev  present  with  their  regular 
descents  by  successive  fourths,  and  by  the  similar  senti- 
ments  they  expiess:  there  is  always  the  feeling  of  inten- 
tion and   decision,  of  a  resolution  formed. 


3s jj  Isegs 


OF    RICHARD    WAGNER 


473 


It  is  therefore  indisputable  that  tlm  particular  and 
energetic  form  naturally  presented  itself  to  Wagner's 
mind  even  time  he  desired  to  express  the  idea  of  volun- 
tary action,  and  tree  and  unconstrained  movement,  and 
that  he  thus  employed  it.  Whether  this  is  intentional 
or  involuntary,  it  matters  little,  —  it  is  a  fact. 

And  this  remark  becomes  still  more  interesting  when 
we  state  that  Beethoven,  who  is  most  certainly  one  of 
the  spiritual  ancestors  of  Wagner,  his  forerunner  most 
indisputably  before  all  others,  had  already  employed  an 
identically  similar  formula  for  the  purpose  of  express- 
ing an  act  of  laborious  decision  : 


C 

A   G 


B  flat 
F 


DER    SCHWER    GEFASSTE    ENTSCHLUSS 
Grave 


*)■-.}     f 


jyww— 


muss   es  sein  r 
Allegro 


Es     muss     sein 


That  is  a  root. — There  are  others,  there  are  many 
others,  some  of  which  it  has  only  been  possible  to  indi- 
cate by  inference  in  the  course  of  this  chapter.  —  It  is 
a  whole  unexplored  mine  to  be  exploited  by  the  learned 
musicographers  who  wish  to  go  more  deeply  into  the 
mj  steries  of  the  Wagnerian  philosophy,  where  everything 
has  not  yet  been  discovered. 


1  "  Must  it  be  ?     It   must   lie  ! 
Quartet  in  F  major,  op.    135. 


Beethoven,  the  motto  of  the 


474  THE   MUSIC   DRAMAS 


CHAPTER   V 

THE    INTERPRETATION 

"  Suit  the  action  to  the  word,  the  word 
to  the  action  ;  with  this  special  ob- 
servance, that  you  o'erstep  not  the 
modesty  of  nature:  for  anything  so 
overdone  is  from  the  purpose  of 
playing,  whose  end,  both  at  the  first 
and  now,  was  and  is,  to  hold,  as 
't  were,  the  mirror  up  to  nature." 
Shakespeare. 

WE  have  seen  in  the  life  of  Wagner  how  exces- 
sively repugnant  to  him  was  the  mere  thought 
of  following  Art  for  money.  Money,  however,  was  neces- 
sary to  him,  and  even  indispensable  for  the  realization 
of  his  vast  conceptions  ;  but  he  never  considered  it  as 
anything  but  a  means,  not  as  an  end. 

This  noble  way  of  looking  at  the  cultivation  of  Art 
has  become  in  some  measure  the  device  of  the  courage- 
ous band  from  which  the  Festival-Theatre  is  recruited, 
every  time  it  is  opened  for  a  series  of  performances ;  the 
characteristic  of  every  Wagnerian  artist-interpreter,  as  we 
find  him  at  Bayreuth  (and  there  only),  is  complete  dis- 
interestedness, the  abnegation  of  his  own  personality,  as 
well  as  his  own  interests  •,  according  to  the  example  set  by 
the  Master,  he  comes  there  with  no  other  motive  than 
the  pure  desire  of  producing  Art  for  Art's  sake.  There- 
fore no  one,  neither  the  singers  nor  the  members  of  the 
<  horus,  the  musicians  in  the  orchestra  nor  the  scene- 
fitters,  the  instructors  nor  the  leaders  of  the  orchestra, 


OF   RICHARD    WAGNER  475 

receive* anything  in  the  nature  of  money  or  reward  ;  they 
all  receive  a  simple  indemnity  which  scarcely  covers  their 
living  expenses  ;  sometimes  even  they  have  refused  that ; 
their  travelling-expenses  are  paid,  and  they  are  lodged 
vvith  an  inhabitant  at  the  charge  of  the  administration  ; 
when  the  performances  come  to  an  end,  they  depart, 
without  having  realized  any  pecuniary  profit,  for  they 
have  not  come  for  that.  The  happiness  of  co-operating 
in  the  great  work,  of  participating  in  a  magnificent  dis- 
play of  the  beautiful,  is  sufficient  for  them  ;  they  are 
Priests  of  Art,  artists  in  the  purest  and  highest  sense  of 
the  word,  and,  with  rare  exceptions,  thev  are  religious 
artists,  convinced  of  the  greatness   of  their  mission. 

For  the  singer  who  is  heard  in  Paris,  Munich,  Brus- 
sels, or  elsewhere,  the  greatest  composer  will  always  be 
the  one  who  has  afforded  him  the  greatest  number  of 
successes ;  the  best  work  that  in  which  the  best  role  is 
allotted  to  him  ;  he  thinks  more  of  the  business  side  than 
of  the  art,  seeking  above  all  to  please  the  public  and 
have  himself  intrusted  with  an  important  and  sympathetic 
role,  so  as  to  be  able  afterwards  to  look  forward  to  a 
more  advantageous  engagement,  and  finally  to  get  rich. 
But  on  the  day  when  he  comes  to  Bayreuth,  all  idea  of 
lucre  is  dismissed  in  advance  :  it  is  a  pilgrimage  that  he 
is  performing,  and  from  that  moment  his  whole  will  and 
intelligence  are  directed  solely  to  a  reverential  interpre- 
tation of  the  work,  putting  aside  the  sordid  considerations 
and  jealousies  of  the  green-room.  His  sole  aim  hence- 
forth is  to  render  as  faithfully  as  possible  the  part  which 
is  assigned  to  him,  without  attempting  to  introduce  into 
it  any  other  effects  than  those  which  are  contained  in  it, 
respectfully  conforming  to  the  exact  letter  and  to  the 
tradition  which  is  still  alive  in  the  minds  and  memories 
of  the  surviving  collaborators  of  the  revered  Master. 


476  THE    MUSIC    DRAMAS 

We  can  understand,  aside  from  the  individual  value 
of  each  assistant,  what  cohesion  and  truth  the  execution 
and  interpretation  may  gain  when  the  actor  is  inspired 
with  such  feelings,  when  he  regards  his  functions  like  an 
accomplished  priest  with  happiness  and  pride,  and  when 
he  feels  around  him  comrades  who  are  impregnated  with 
the  same  respect  for  the  dignity  of  Art. 

It  is  not,  therefore,  the  perfection  or  personal  virtuos- 
ity of  this  or  that  singer  to  which  the  exceptionally 
striking  and  captivating  character  of  the  Bayreuth  per- 
formances must  be  attributed,  but  to  that  intimate  solid- 
arity, to  that  boundless  devotion  to  the  common  cause, 
which  allows  an  artist,  who  is  everywhere  else  accus- 
tomed to  play  the  leading  parts,  to  accept  here,  without 
feeling  any  loss  of  dignity,  the  very  slightest  character, 
in  which  he  will  acquit  himself  with  as  much  zeal  and 
conscientiousness  as  if  he  were  the  hero.  These  same 
singers  may  be  seen  on  other  boards  but  they  will  never 
be  as  they  are  here,  because  they  have  not  the  same  in- 
spiration. 

The  interpreter  who  intends  to  attack  the  Wagnerian 
repertoire  must  be  endowed  with  rare  and  manifold  quali- 
ties. Before  all,  he  must  possess  naturally  the  artistic 
sense,  he  must  be  an  excellent  musician,  a  musician  who 
cannot  be  baffled  by  any  difficulty  of  intonation:  —  for 
Wagner,  by  the  very  essence  of  his  style,  as  we  have 
shown,  treats  the  voice  as  a  chromatic  instrument,  or 
rather  as  a  keyboard,1   with  a  low  and  high  compass,  and 

1  In  a  work  which  I  esteem  very  highly  (Ernst,  Richard  IVagner 
and  Contemporary  Drama),  I  have  seen  this  same  subject  treated  in 
terms  which  :it  first  sight  seem  contradictory  to  mine;  it  is  not  so, 
however,  it  i-  merely  a  question  of  words.  I  call  the  way  in  which 
Mozart  lias  treated  the  voice  -vocal  style,  not  entirely  neglecting  the 
side  of  virtuosity,  and,  in  comparison,  the  way  in  which  Beethoven 
employs  the  vonv  I  consider  more  instrumental.      When  I  say  that 


OF    RICHARD   WAGNER  477 

various  registers,  but  he  neither  takes,  nor  should  take, 
account  of  the  eftort  required  to  pass  from  one  note  to 
another,  or  constantly  to  change  the  key,  or  to  bridge 
difficult  intervals  ;  he  does  not  try  either  to  be  easy  or 
to  favour  a  singer's  showy  effects  or  virtuosity  ;  dramatic 
accent  and  declamation,  sung  and  intoned,  stand  for  him 
above  everv  other  consideration,  and  it  is  by  this  means 
that  he  obtains  truth  of  language,  absolute  cohesion  be- 
tween the  poem  and  the  measured  recitative  which  the 
singers  have  to  give  forth  on  the  stage,  while  the  sym- 
phonic web  is  being  unwound  in  the  orchestra,  two  ele- 
ments of  equal  importance.  —  The  Wagnerian  interpreter 
must  also  have  the  true  qualities  of  a  tragedian  ;  for  there 
is  as  much  action  and  by-play  as  singing,  and  the  least 
fault,  the  least  stage  awkwardness,  here  becomes  the 
equivalent  of  a  false  note  ;   it  is  a  discord. 

But  what  is  indispensable  above  all  else  is  absolute 
docility  and  submission  to  the  gentle  and  urbane  direc- 
tions of  those 'in  charge  of  the  instruction,  including 
Julius  Kniese,  who  for  many  years  has  fulfilled  the  duties 
of  chief  of  the  singing,  and,  more  especially,  Frau  Wag- 
ner, who  watches  with  maternal  care  over  the  treasures 
committed  to  her  keeping,  takes  an  active  part  in  all  the 
rehearsa  3  and  performances,  and  possesses  the  precious 
traditions  in  a  higher  degree  than  any  one  else,  and  does 
not  intend  them  to  fall  into  decay  ;  :iv.d  in  this  she  is  per- 
fectly right. 

Every  role  has  been  minutelv  mapped  out  to  the  smallest 
detail  by  Wagner  ;   effects  are  not  to  be  sought  after,  those 

Wagner  treats  the  voice  as  an  instrument,  I  mean  as  a  special  in- 
strument, the  'vocal  declamatory  instrument,  if  you  like,  and  I  no 
more  say  that  he  writes  tor  the  voice  as  for  the  violins,  than  that  he 
writes  the  flute  parts  like  those  of  the  trombone,  which  would  be  a 
simple  absurdity. 


478  THE    MUSIC    DRAMAS 

that  are  intended  are  simply  to  be  observed.  The  best 
interpreter  is  therefore  the  one  who  is  most  faithful  and 
sincere.  And,  above  all,  let  it  not  be  thought  that  this 
docile  and  respectful  manner  of  interpretation  lessens  in 
the  smallest  degree  the  singer's  prestige  ;  on  the  contrary, 
it  shows  that  he  is  possessed  of  the  purest  and  most  ex- 
quisite artistic  feeling. 

Moreover,  this  is  how  Wagner,  speaking  of  the  cele- 
brated tenor  Schnorr,  the  marvellous  creator  of  Tristan, 
expresses  himself  on  this  subject : 

"Schnorr  was  a  born  poet  and  musician:  like  myself  he 
passed  from  a  general  classical  education  to  the  particular  study 
of  music  ;  it  is  very  probable  that  he  would  soon  have  followed 
in  the  same  direction  as  myself  if  he  had  not  developed  those 
inexhaustible  vocal  powers  that  were  to  help  to  realize  my 
highest  ideals,  and  consequently  to  make  him  directly  associated 
with  my  career,  by  complementing  my  own  labours.  In  this 
new  vocation  our  modern  civilization  offered  him  no  other  ex- 
pedient than  that  of  accepting  engagements  on  the  stage,  of 
becoming  a  tenor,  very  much  as  Liszt,  in  a  similar  case  became 
a  pianist." 

In  saying  this,  he  ranked  the  genius  of  interpretation 
with  that  of  creation,  and  showed  in  what  esteem  he  him- 
self held  the  artist  who  was  capable  of  assimilating  the 
.    author's  inmost  thoughts  and  faithfully  portraying  them. 

As  for  the  rest,  Bayreuth  should  not  be  visited  for  the 
sake  of  hearing  the  actor,  but  for  seeing  the  work,  con- 
sidering ourselves  happy  if  we  have  the  good  fortune  to 
chance  upon  an  interpretation  of  absolute  genius,  which 
sometimes  happens,  but  this  is  not  necessary  for  the  under- 
standing of  the  work. 

From  its  origin  to  1892,  the  Festival-Theatre  was 
entirely  dependent,  so  far  as  its  singers  were  concerned, 
on  the  great  theatres  of  Germany  ;  at  present  the  school 


OF    RICHARD    WAGNER  479 

of  dramatic  singing,  of  the  creation  of  which  Wagner  had 
long  dreamed,  which,  to  tell  the  truth,  only  yet  exists  in 
a  rudimentary  form,  and  which  is  often  called  the  Con- 
servatoire of  Bayreuth,  is  beginning  to  hear  fruit. 

There,  under  the  direction- of  Julius  Knicsc  and  the 
strong  impulse  of  Mine.  Wagner,  young  people  of  vocal 
talent  learn  what  is  necessary  for  the  interpretation  of 
the  Wagnerian  works;  they  arc  first  made  thorough 
musicians  and  elocutionists,  their  voices  are  developed, 
their  musical  and  dramatic  intelligence  is  elevated,  op- 
portunity is  afforded  for  them  to  rehearse  in  scenes  of 
secondary  and  sometimes  of  higher  importance,  and  then 
they  make  their  first  attempts  at  the  Festival-Theatre  as 
simple  members  of  the  chorus.  Thus  in  1894  five 
pupils  of  the  Bayreuth  School  were  found  in  the  choruses, 
three  women  and  two  men,  Breuer  and  Burgstaller; 
both  the  latter  were  at  the  same  time  entrusted  with 
roles  which  form  mere  episodes  in  Lohengrin,  Parsifal. 
and  Tannhauser.  In  1896,  Breuer  made  an  excellent 
Mime,  whilst  Burgstaller  interpreted  the  important  char- 
acter of  Siegfried  in  a  more  than  satisfactory  manner. 

These  are  the  first  productions  of  the  youthful  School 
of  Bayreuth,  from  which  we  mav  hope  to  see  a  race  of 
musician-singers  arise,  a  species  of  extreme  rarity,  and 
one   almost   unknown,  alas  !    under   our   skies. 

The  theatre  of  Bayreuth  has  been  opened  eleven  times 
since  its  erection  to  1896. 

In    1896   the  Tetralogy  of  Der   Ring  des  Nibelungen 

was  given  three  times 12  performances 

In   1882,  Parsifal 1 6  « 

In  1883,  Parsifal 12  « 

In   1884,  Parsifal 10  " 


48o 


THE    MUSIC   DRAMAS 


In  1886,  Parsifal      .      .      . 
and  Tristan  und  Isolde 
In  1888,  Parsifal      .      .      . 

and  Die  Meistersinger 
In  1889,  Parsifal       .      .      . 
Tristan  und  Isolde 
and  Die  Meistersinger 
In  1 89 1,  Parsifal 

Tristan  und  Isolde 
and  Tannbduser 
In   1892,  Parsifal 

Tristan  und  Isolde 
Tannbduser 
and  Die  Meistersinger 
In   1894,  Parsifal 

Lohengrin    . 

and  Tannbduser 

In  1896  five  performances  of  the 

Tetralogy  of  the  Ring  made 


9  performances. 
8 


9 
4 
5 

10 

3 

7 
8 

4 

4 

4 

9 
6 

5 
20 


which  makes  a  total  of  182  representations, 

32  of  The  Tetralogy  (each  division  8  times), 
92  of  Parsifal, 
19  of  Tristan, 
l  J  of  Die  Meistersinger, 
16  of  Tannbduser, 
and  6  of  Lohengrin. 

Below,  also,  we  give  the  distribution  of  the  roles,  as 
well  as  the  persons  directing  each  of  these  series  of 
performances;  I  think  that  much  interesting  informa- 
tion on  various  points  may  be  gained  from  these  lists, 
which  have  never  been  published,  but  the  perfect  authen- 
ticity of  which  I  guarantee. 


OF    RICHARD    \\  \(  iNER 


481 


DER    RING    DES    NIBELUNGEN 
In  1876  and  1896 
1876 1 


Con  in  re  roK  . 

Sl  VGE-MaNAGER  : 

Insi  b  1  1  roi 
and  assistant- 
musicians  on 
the  stage. 


I  [ans  Richter. 

Karl  Brandt. 
Anton  Seidl. 
Franz  Fischer. 
Mi  in. mn  Zimmer. 
I  (emetrius  I  alias. 

eph  Rubinstein. 

ix  Mottl. 


1  Dei 
Jos 

VFel 


1896 
1  [ans  Richter. 
Felix  Mottl. 

Siegfried  Wagner. 
Julius  Kni(  s»  ■ 
Michael  Balling. 
Frantz  Beidler. 
Willibald  Kahler. 
<  is,  ar  Merz. 
arl  Pohlig. 
Edouard  Ki.sler. 


I; 


RIIl'.IXGOLD 


Wotan. 

Donner. 

Froh. 

Loge. 

Alberich. 

Mime. 

Fasoit. 

Fafner. 

Fricka. 

Freia. 

Erda. 

Rhine- 
Daughters. 


Franz  lletz. 

Eugen  Gura. 

1  ri  org  linger. 

Ilcinrich  Vogl. 

Carl  Mill. 

Carl  Schlosser. 

Albert  Filers. 

Franz  von  Reichenberg. 

Friederike  Griin. 

Marie  Haupt. 

Luise  Jai'de. 

Lilli  I  /ehmann.  _ 

Marie  I  .ehnianiiT 

Minna  Lammert. 


Hermann  Bachmann. 

Carl  Perron. 
I  lerniann  Hat  hmann. 
Alois  Burgstaller. 
Heinrich  Vogl. 
Fried.  Friedrichs. 
Hans  Breuer. 
Ernst  Wachter. 
Johannes  Elmblad. 
Marie  Brema. 
Marion  Weed. 
E.  Schuinami-Hcink. 
Josephine  v.  Artner. 
Katharina  Rosing. 
Olive  Fremstad. 


DIE   WALKURE 


Siegmund. 

Hunding. 
Wotan. 

Sieglinde 
Brunnhilde. 


Albert  Niemann. 

Joseph  Niering. 
Franz  Betz. 

Josephine  Schefzky. 
Amalie  Materna. 


Emil  ( rei  hauser. 

I  leinrich  Vogl.2 
Ernst  Wat  hter. 
I  [inn. mn  Bai  hmann. 

<   .11 1   Pel  1011. 
Rosa  Sucher. 
Ellen  '  rulbransi «. 

Lilli  I.chnaann-Kalisch. 
Marie  IheilKi. 


Josephine  v.  Artner. 


Fricka.  Friederike  Griin. 

Gerhilde.  Marie  Haupt. 

1  The  names  of  the  Creators  of  the  Tetralogy  are  engraved  on  a 
marble  slab  in  the  peristyle  of  the  theatre. 
-  Vogl's  name  was  not  on  the  programme  , 


482 


THE    MUSIC    DRAMAS 


Helmwige. 

Ortlinde. 

Waltraute. 

Siegrune. 

Rossweisse. 

Grimgerde. 

Schwertleite 


Lilli  Lehmann. 
Marie  Lehmann. 
Luise  Jai'de. 
Antonie  Amann. 
Minna  Lammert. 
Hedwig  Reicher- 

Kindermann. 
Johanna  Jachmann- 

Wagner. 


Auguste  Meyer. 
Marion  Weed. 
E.  Schumann-Heinle 
Johanna  JNeumayen 
Luise  Reuss-Belce. 
Katharina  Rosing. 

Olive  Fremstad 


SIEGFRIED 


Siegfried. 


Mime. 

The  Wanderer, 

Alberieh. 
Fafner. 
Erda. 
Brunnhilde. 

The  Bird 


Georg  linger. 

Carl  Schlosser. 
Franz  Betz. 

Carl  Hill. 

Franz  von  Reichenberg. 

Luise  Jai'de. 

Amalie  Materna. 

Marie  Haupt. 


Alois  Burgstaller. 

Wilhelm  Griining. 

Gustav  Seidel.1 
Hans  Breuer. 
Hermann  Bachmann. 

Carl  Perron. 
Fried.  Friedrichs. 
Johannes  Elmblad. 
E.  Schumann-Heink. 
Llleii  Gulbraifson. 

Lilli  Lehmann-Kalisch 
JosephTnev.  Artner. 


MMERUNG 

Alois  Burgstaller. 

Wilhelm  Griining. 

Gustav  Seidel. 
Carl  Gross. 
Johannes  Elmblad. 

Carl  Grengg. 
Fried.  Friedrichs. 
Ellen  Gulbranson. 

Lilli  Lehmann-Kalisch. 
Luise  Reuss-Belce. 
E.  Schumann-Heink. 
M  ar^e^  eTima  ir?f. 
Luise  Reuss-Belce. 
E.  Schumann-Heink. 

Josephine  v.  Artner. 
katharina  Rosing. 
Olive  Fremstad. 

Chorus  of  30  men 
and  12  women. 

1  Seidel's  name  was  on  the  programmes,  but  he  was  not  called 
upon  to  fill  the  part. 


DIE  GOTTERDA 

Siegfried. 

Georg  Unger. 

Gunther. 

Eugen  Gura. 

Hagen. 

Gustav  Siehr. 

Alberieh. 

Carl  Hill. 

Brunnhilde. 

Amalie  Materna. 

Gutrune. 

Mathilde  Weckerlin. 

Waltraute. 

Luise  Jai'de. 

(  Johanna  Jachmann- 
J       Wagner. 
j  Josephine  Schefzky. 
(  Friederike  Griin. 

The  Norns. 

The  Rhine- 
Daughters. 

(  Lilli  Lehmann. 

Marie  Lehmann. 
(  Minna  Lammert. 

Chorus  of  2S  men 

and  9  women. 

tannhAuser 

In  1S91,  1892,  and  1894. 


,8„ 

.89* 

1894 

Conductors  ■ 

Hermann  Levi. 
Felix  Mottl. 

Julius  Kniese. 
Hermann  Levi. 
Felix  Mottl. 
Carl  Muck. 
Hans  Rkhter. 

Julius  Kniese. 
Hermann  Levi. 
Felix  Mottl. 
Hans  Richter. 
Richard  Strauss. 

Chorus-masters: 

Julius  Kniese. 
Heinrich  Porges. 

Rehearsers 
on  the  stage. 

Carl  Armbruster. 
Albert  Gorter. 
Engelbert  Humperdinck. 
Otlo  Lohse. 
Oscar  Merz. 
Paumgartner. 
Hugo  Rohr. 
Hans  Steiner. 
Richard  Strauss. 

Carl  Armbruster  (director 
of  music  on  the  stage). 

Kurt.  Hosel. 

Fngclbert  Humperdinck. 

Oscar  Merz. 

Carl  Pohlig. 

Heinrich   Porges   (chorus- 
master). 

Max  Schilling. 

Sk-gfried  Wagner. 

Carl  Armbruster. 
Eng.  Humperdinck. 
Oscar  lunger- 
Franz  Mikoren. 
Carl  Pohlig. 
Heinrich  Porges. 
Anton  Schlosser. 
Siegfried  Wagner. 

The  Landgrave 

Georg  Doring. 
Ileinr.  Wiegand. 

Georg  Doring. 

Georg  Doring. 

Tannhauaer. 

Max  Alvary. 

Herm.  Wmkelmann. 

Heinr.  Zeller. 

Wilhelm  Griming. 

Wilhelm  Gruning. 

Wolfram. 

Theodor  Reichmann.               '_ 
Carl  Scheideinantel.                 ' 

J.  Kaschmann.                          ' 
Carl  Scheide mantel.                 ' 

G.  Kaschmann. 
Theodor  Reichmann 

Walter. 

Wilhelm  GrUning. 

Emil  Gerhauser. 

Emil  Gerhauser. 

Bitercdf. 

Emil  Liepe. 

Emil  Liepe. 

Michael  Takats. 

Henry. 

Heinrich  Zeller. 

Heinrich  Zeller. 

Alois  Burgstaller. 

Reinmar. 

Franz  Schlosser. 

Carl  Bucha. 

Carl  Bucha. 

Elizabeth. 

Pauline  dc  Anna.                      1 
Elisa  Wiborg.                            ] 

Adolphi'ne  Welschke.               } 
Elisa  Wiborg.                           1 

Pauline  de  Anna. 
Elisa  Wiborg. 

Venus.                                J 

Pauline  Mailhac 
Rosa  Sucher. 

Pauline  Mailhac. 

Pauline  Mailhac. 

A  young  shepherd.          j 

Emilie  Herzog.                         J 
Luise  Mulder.                         j 

Luise  Mulder.                         1 
Ida  Pfund.                                 ] 

Marie  Deppe. 
Luise  Mulder. 

Chorus  of  53  men 

Chorus  of  61  men 

Chorus  of  65  men 
and  52  women. 

Dancing  under  the  direction  of  Mme.  Virginia 

Zuccbi;  invariably  30  males  an 

d  34  females 

OF    RICHARD    WAGNER 


4«3 


Conductors: 


Rehearsers   and 

musician-assistants 

on  the  stage : 


King  Henry. 
Lohengrin. 
Frederick. 
The  Herald. 
4  nobles. 

Elsa. 
Ortrude. 


LOHENGRIN 

1894 

Julius  Kniese. 

1  [ermann  Levi. 

Felix  Mottl. 

Hans  Richter. 

Richard  Strauss. 

Carl  Armbruster. 

Eng.  Humperdinck. 

Oscar  Jiinger. 

Franz  Mikoren. 

Carl  Pohlig. 

Heinrich  Forges. 

Anton  Schlosser. 

Siegfried  Wagner. 

Carl  Grengg.  —  Max  Mosel. 

Ernest  van  Dyck. 

Demeter  Popovici. 

Hermann  Bachmann. 

Hans    Breuer,  Carl    Bucha,  Joseph    Cianda, 

Heinr.  Scheuten. 
Lilian  Nordica. 
Marie  Brema.  —  Pauline  Mailhac. 


Chorus  of  65  men  and  52  women. 


The  composition  of  the  orchestra  is  almost  fixed  and 
invariable  ;  it  can  hardly  be  increased  on  account  of  the 
impossibility  of  enlarging  the  space  allotted  to  it,  but 
certain  works  necessitate  the  presence  of  a  greater  or 
smaller  number  of  instrumentalists  on   the  stage. 

Here  is  the  exact  number  of  which  the  orchestra  has 
been  composed  on   the  various  occasions  : 


484 


THE    MUSIC    DRAMAS 


Violins   

Violas 

Violoncellos 

Double-Basses 

Flutes  

Oboes 

Cor  Anglais 

Clarinets 

Bass-Clarinets 

Bassoons 

Contrabassoons 

Horns 

Trumpets 

Bass  Trumpets 

Trombones 

Trombones  —  contrabass 

Tubas  —  tenor 

Tubas — bass 

Tuba — contrabass 

Kettledrums 

Harps 


1876    1886    1 


32 


1891    1892 


32 


1894 


3- 


1896 


As  will  be  seen,  the  String  Quartet  has  suffered  only 
the  slightest  modifications  ;  the  most  curious  are  in  the 
Horns,  which  have  varied  from  seven  to  eleven ;  the 
Bass  Trumpet  and  the  Tuba  Contrabass  only  appear 
when  The  Ring  is  played  -,  the  latter  also  requires  a  third 
Drum   and   four  additional   Harps. 

The  largest  orchestra  was  that  of  1896,  containing 
125   musicians,  nine  more  than    in    1876. 

Like  the  singers,  the  orchestra  is  recruited  from  every 
direction,  more  particularly  in  Germany,  as  is  natural, 
but  also  largely  abroad.  It  is  incontestably  a  body  of 
experts,  and  it  is  not  rare  to  find  in  it  artists  who  else- 
where fulfil  the  duties  and  bear  the  title  of- Leader  of  the 
Orchestra,  Kapellmeister,  and  Director  of  the  Court 
Music.  But  here,  under  the  admirable  direction  of  the 
great   artists,   Hans   Richter,   Hermann   Levi,  and   Felix 


OF    RICHARD    WAGNER 


485 


Mottl,  they  receive  at  the  same  time  a  technical  instruc- 
tion and  an  artistic  impulse  which  they  might  seek  for  in 
vain  elsewhere. 


HANS    RICIITl  K. 


There  is  no  need  of  severity  to  obtain  exactitude  and 
obedience  from  them  ;  they  all  come  with  goodwill  to 
range  themselves  under  the  great  and  noble  banner;  the 
orchestra  is  a  united  family,  and  the  undisputed  authority 


*86 


THE   MUSIC    DRAMAS 


of  the  chief  is  marked  with  a  good  humour  which  is  quite 
fatherly.  At  a  recent  rehearsal  of  Siegfried,  one  of  the 
drums   had  been  struck  a  little  before  the  right  moment. 


HERMANN    LEVI. 


11  Sir,"  said  Richter  gently,  "  I  would  have  you  observe 
that  Fafner  does  not  die  till  the  second  beat," — which 
was   duly  noted. 

During  the  performances,  if  he  darts  an  angry  glance 
at    a  culprit    (which    sometimes   happens   there   as   else- 


OF    RICHARD    WAGNER 


4*7 


where),  he  never  fails  to  bestow  a   smile  of  satisfaction 

and  encouragement   on   the  soloist   who   has    just   distin- 
guished himself   by  an  exact  interpretation  of  his  role  ;    I 


FELIX    Mi  O  1  1 


say  role,  for,  there  is  no  mistake  about  it,  all  the  roles  an 
not  upon  the  stage;  there  are  many,  and  no  he  least 
important,  which  arc  confided  exclusn  ely  to  the  orchestra, 
and  each  musician,  by  the  instruction  gained  at  rehearsal, 


488  THE    MUSIC    DRAMAS 

knows,  at  anv  moment,  the  meaning  of  what  he  is  doing, 
whether  he  is  simply  contributing  to  an  ensemble  effect,  or 
whether  the  musical  phrase  in  his  charge  possesses  any 
particular  signification  which  must  be  accentuated,  and 
to  what  degree;  he  is  not  one  of  those  who  know  better 
than  all  the  commentators  the  force  of  the  Leit-motiv <e, 
often  without  knowing  their  names,  which  are  always 
conventional  and  often  variable,  but,  what  is  better,  he 
understands  their  spirit  and  inner  meaning.  Thence 
results  a  symphonic  execution  which,  even  if  it  some- 
times sins  on  the  side  of  individual  virtuosity,  is  charac- 
terized bv  exceptional  intelligence ;  it  is  not  always 
perfection,  but  right  intention  is  always  perceptible  and 
it  never  becomes  meaningless. 

At  Bayreuth  the  orchestra,  although  so  large,  is  never 
noisy.  If  any  fault  is  to  be  found  with  it,  it  is  rather 
that  of  being  sometimes  too  subdued  ;  it  never  drowns 
the  voice  of  the  singer,  and  every  syllable  is  distinctly 
audible  ;  this  may  arise  partly  from  the  utterance  of  the 
actors,  which  is  exceedingly  clear  in  general,  and  from 
the  numerous  consonants  of  the  German  language  ;  but 
it  is  certain  that  the  underground  situation  of  the  or- 
chestra, like  an  inverted  amphitheatre  and  partly  covered 
with  screens,  has  much  to  do  with  it  ;  the  fusion  of 
brasses  and  strings  in  the  depths  sometimes  produces  an 
organ-tone  which   can  only  be   heard   there. 

Moreover,  there  is  nothing  more  curious  than  the 
appearance  of  the  orchestra  during  a  performance  ;  un- 
fortunately no  one,  without  a  single  exception,  is  allowed 
to  go  into  it;  the  entrance  is  strictly  guarded.  The  care- 
fully shaded  incandescent  lights  illuminate  the  stands 
before  which  the  musicians  are  seated,  the  majority  of 
them  in  their  shirt-sleeves,  for  it  is  warm  in  July,  and 
they  give  their  whole  heart  to  the  work ;   people  are  fond 


OF    RICHARD    WAGNER  489 

of  telling  how  "bocks"  accumulate  beside  them,  which,  of 
course,  are  not  touched  till  there  area  certain  number  of 
bars'  rest,  but  this  is  absolutely  false.  The  truth  is  that 
when  their  part  gives  them  a  rest,  the  neglected  ones  of 
the  orchestra,  the  Trombones  and  Tubas,  who  dwell  in 
the  depths  of  the  cave,  surreptitiously  creep,  gliding 
among  the  music-stands,  to  try  to  get  a  glimpse,  if  only 
for  a  moment,  of  a  corner  of  the  stage,  a  happiness  which 
is  reserved  alone  for  those  of  the  first  and  second  violins 
who  are  placed  above  in  the  first  row. 

The  conductor  above  (who,  like  the  others,  takes  off  his 
jacket  and  cravat),  has  his  face  lighted  up  by  two  lamps 
whose  powerful  reflectors  are  turned  upon  him,  so  that 
no  one,  on  the  stage  or  in  the  orchestra,  may  lose  any  of 
his  gestures  or  facial  expressions;  it  is  not  his  score  that  is 
illuminated, he  knows  that  by  heart  and  rarelv  glances  at  it; 
it  is  himself,  the  absolute  master,  the  sole  one  on  whom 
the  whole  responsibility  of  the  entire  interpretation  falls. 

Notwithstanding  the  talent  and  conscientiousness  of 
each  of  the  participants  and  the  profound  experience  and 
conviction  of  the  chiefs,  it.  is  only  after  infinite  and 
laborious  study  that  works  so  complex  as  those  which 
form  the  Bayreuth  repertoire  are  finally  produced.  The 
singers  arrive,  already  knowing  their  parts  by  heart,  and 
the  majority  of  musicians  have  already  had  opportunities 
in  other  German  theatres  (except  in  the_case  of  Parsifal, 
which  has  never  been  performed  elsewhere);  but  it  still 
remains  for  them  to  acquire  that  marvellous  cohesion, 
and  that  feeling  of  respect  for  the  work  which  particu- 
larly characterizes  and  gives  a  colour  of  its  own  to  the 
model-interpretation   at   the   Festival- Theatre. 

It  seems  to  me  therefore  that  it  will  be  interesting  to 
give  the  reader  as  an  example  the  Table  of  Rehearsals 
of  the  Tetralogy  of  The  Ring  of  the  Nibelung  in   1896. 


490 


THE   MUSIC    DRAMAS 


This  preparatory  work,  arranged  and  settled  in  advance, 
lasted  from  June  15th  to  July  18th  without  intermission 
except  for  three  days  of  rest  wisely  provided  for  towards 
the  close  of  the  studies. 

It  follows  in  detail : 


RHEINGOLD 

'   9 

to  n  o'clock     . 

Wind  instruments.1 

n 

to    1        " 

Strings. 

June 

■5' 

( 

10 

33c 
k    5-3C 
9 

to    5.30  " 
to   S       " 
ton        " 

.  ■  Stage  with  piano. 

Full  orchestra. 

Stage  with  piano. 
.     Full  orchestra. 

June 

16}  11 

to    1        " 

.     Stage  with  piano. 

June 

I    3 

(  10 

,714 

to   7        " 
to    1        " 
to    7        " 

.     Stage  with  orchestra 
.     Orchestra. 

DIE    WALK1 

JRE 

Act 

I. 

1   9 

to  11  o'clock    . 

Wind  instruments. 

June 

18, 

11 

10 

3 

to    1 

u 

to    s       " 

Strings. 

Stage  with  piano. 

Full  orchestra. 

I   5 

M 

Stage  with  piano. 

Act 

II. 

to  1 1  o'clock     . 

Wind  instruments. 

June 

to    1        " 
to    I        " 

to    5       " 

Strings. 

Stage  with  piano. 

Full  orchestra. 

I   5 

to   8      " 

Stage  with  piano. 

1  Thf  partial  rehearsals  of  the  orchestra  take  place  in  the  Res- 
taurant-Brasserie, to  the  left  of  the  theatre  as  you  face  it.  The 
conductor  bravely  mounts  a  table  with  his  chair  and  stand  and  the 
musicians  group  themselves  around  him.  It  is  very  homelike  and 
picturesque. 


OF   RICHARD    WAGNER 


491 


Act  III. 


June  20 


(   9  to  1 1  o'clock 

II  to     I         " 

10  to     I         " 

3  to    5      " 
5 


Wind  instruments. 

Strings. 

Stage  with  piano. 

Full  orchestra. 

Stage  with  piano. 


Acts  I.  and  II. 
9.30  to    1  o'clock     .     .     .     Stage  with  orchestra. 

Act  III. 
I    ■;  o'clocl 


(    9'3 
June  2i-[ 

5  o'clock Stage  with  orchestra. 


f   9 


June  22 


June 


June  24 


r   9 

1 1 

10 

3 

5 


June  25-. 


SIEGFRIED 

Act  I. 

to  11  o'clock 
to    1 


to    5 


Act  II. 


to  11  o'clock 
to    1 

to  1  " 
to  5  " 
to   8       " 


Act  III. 


to  11  o'clock 
to    1 

to    1       " 
to    5       " 


Wind  instruments. 

Strings. 

Stage  with  piano. 

Full  orchestra. 

Stage  with  piano. 


Wind  instruments. 

Strings. 

Stage  with  piano. 

Full  orchestra. 

Stage  with  piano. 


Wind  instruments. 

Strings. 

Stage  with  piano. 

Full  orchestra. 

Stage  with  piano. 


Acts  I.  and  II. 
9.30  to    1  o'clock     .     .     .     Stage  with  orchestra. 

Act  III. 
V    5  o'clock Stage  with  orchestra. 


492 


THE    MUSIC    DRAMAS 


DIE    GOTTERDAMMERUNG 
Prologue 


June  26 


June  27 


June  28 


June  29- 


r  9 

to  1 1  o'clock     . 

. 

Wind  instruments. 

1 1 

to    1 

Strings. 

10 

« 

. 

Stage  with  piano. 

3 

to    5      " 

Full  orchestra. 

1  5 

u 

Stage  with  piano. 

Act 

I. 

f  9 

to  1 1  o'clock     . 

Wind  instruments. 

1 1 

to    1       " 

Strings. 

10 

" 

Stage  with  piano. 

3 

to   5      " 

Full  orchestra. 

1  5 

it 

Stage  with  piano. 

Act 

II 

f  9 

to  11  o'clock     . 

Wind  instruments. 

1 1 

to    I        " 

Strings. 

10 

" 

Stage  with  piano. 

3 

to    5      << 

Full  orchestra. 

1  5 

Stage  with  piano. 

Act 

III. 

r  9 

to  11  o'clock    . 

Wind  instruments. 

1 1 

to     I         " 

Strings. 

10 

" 

Stage  with  piano. 

3 
1  5 

to  5     " 

Full  orchestra. 
Stage  with  piano. 

Prologue  and  Act  I. 
r    9.30  to    1  o'clock     .     .     .     Stage  with  orchestra. 
June  30-  Acts  II.   and  III. 

I     t;  o'clock Stage  with  orchestra. 


July  1 

"  2 

"  3 

"  4 

"  5 

"  6 


Das  Rheingold. 
Die  Walkiire. 
Siegfried. 


Full  rehearsals  with 
orchestra. 


OF    RICHARD    WAGNER  493 

July    7  Die  GbUcrdiimmcrung.  ) 

o  <<    ■  f  Full  rehearsal  s  n  iili 


S 


orchestra. 


"  9 

"  10  (Rest). 

"  11                                                       Reunion. 

"  12  Das  Rheingold.                   Full  rehearsal. 

"  13  Die  Walkiire. 

"  14  (Rest). 

"  15  Siegfried.                              Full  rehearsal. 

"  16  Die  Gotterdiimmerung.       " 

'  17                                                            Reunion. 

"  iS  (Rest). 

On  the  following  day,  the  19th,  the  performances 
began. 

The  studies  had  been  conducted  otherwise  and  at 
greater  length   at  the  time  of  the  inauguration. 

The  four  weeks  of  July,  1875,  were  given  up  to  re- 
hearsals with  the  piano  :  first  week,  Das  Rheingold;  second, 
Die  lValkiire\  third,  Siegfried,  and  fourth,  Die  Gotterdiim- 
merung. From  the  1st  to  the  15th  of  August  of  the  same 
year,  the  same  works  were  rehearsed  with  the  orchestra  ; 
in  the  third  week  of  August  the  stage  part  was  studied. 

These  rehearsals,  however,  were  onlj  preparatory,  fur, 
in  1876,  from  June  3rd,  the  rehearsals  were  recommenced, 
sometimes  with  the  piano,  sometimes  with  tin-  orchestra, 
and  afterwards  the  stage;  from  August  6th  to  August  9th 
the  full  rehearsals  were  held,  and  on  Sunday,  the  1  4th,  at 
7  p.  m.,  the  first  performance  began,  with  Das  Rheingold. 

So  that  in  1875  and  1876  there  were  about  three 
months  of  rehearsing. 

From  this  we  see  that  the  life  of  the  members  of  the 
orchestra  during  the  preparatory  studies  is  not  an  idle  one. 

But  the  authorities  know  how  to  make'  it  pleasant  tor 
them.  Mme.  Wagner  is  there  and  loves  to  receive 
them,  to  give  them  a  heart)   welcome,  to  fete  them   and 


494  THE    MUSIC    DRAMAS 

encourage  them  in  their  work.  They  are  welcome 
guests  at  Wahnfried. 

Generally  they  take  their  meals  in  common,  in  groups, 
according  to  their  hours  of  rehearsal,  in  one  of  the  large 
restaurants  near  the  theatre,  where  they  are  very  well 
served  at  an  exceedingly  reasonable  price. 

Certainly  they  work  very  hard  and  tire  themselves ; 
but  above  their  fatigue  hovers  the  inspiriting  thought  of 
the  great  performance  to  be  realized,  of  the  end  to  be 
attained  ;  and  so  no  one  complains,  all  rejoice  in  their 
mutual  efforts  and  aid  and  encourage  each  other. 

Immediately  under  the  orders  of  the  conductor  are 
placed  the  assistant-musicians  of  the  stage,  generally  eight 
in  number,  sometimes  six,  and  rarely  nine.  Their  duties 
are  very  numerous  and  include  those  of  chief  of  the  sing- 
ing and  chorus,  prompter,  rehearser,  and  accompanist  in 
charge  of  those  studying  their  roles ;  they  are  constantly 
about  the  stage,  some  at  certain  fixed  points  on  the  right 
or  left  of  the  curtain,  others  following  the  singers,  score 
in  hand,  whilst  keeping  out  of  sight  behind  the  wings 
and  portions  of  the  scenery,  constantly  guiding  the  actors, 
giving  them  the  key,  beating  time  to  help  them  attack, 
seeing  that  the  shifting  of  the  scenery  exactly  agrees 
with  the  musical  text,  giving  the  signal  for  the  effects  of 
light,  etc.,  etc.  They  are  the  leader's  staff  officers. 
Besides  this,  it  falls  within  their  province  to  play  those 
instruments  which  are  only  rarely  used,  —  the  large 
organ  in  Lohengrin  and  the  Meister singer,  another,  very 
small  (having  only  four  pipes),  placed  in  a  corner  of  the 
orchestra  and  serving  notably  to  reinforce  the  E  flat  at  the 
beginning  of  Das  Rheingold,  the  Glockenspiel  (the  Bells), 
Beckmesser's  lute,  the  thunder,  etc.,  etc.  It  is  needless 
to  say  that  these  important  functions,  which  are  so  full 
of  responsibility,  can  only  be  fulfilled  by  musicians  whose 


OF    RICHARD    WAGNER 


495 


certainty  of  touch  is  absolute,  and  who  are  entirely  calm, 
collected,  and  capable  of  independent  initiative.  In  1876, 
Mottl  was  one  of  these  assistants;   later  we   frequently 


SIEGFRIED   WAGNER. 


find  among  them  the  names  of  Humperdinck,  Carl  Arm- 
bruster,  a  London  organist,  Heinrich  Porges,  and  finally, 
in  1892  and  1894.,  Siegfried  Wagner  served  his  appren- 
ticeship here  before  assuming  the  conductorship. 

I  regret  not  being  able  to  give  the  names  of  all  these 


496  THE    MUSIC    DRAMAS 

great  musicians  hailing  from  all  parts  of  Germany,  Aus- 
tria, England,  Switzerland,  and  Russia.  In  1876,  France 
was  represented  in  the  orchestra  by  a  M.  Laurent,  at 
that  time  a  violinist  at  Montbeliard ;  in  1896  two 
Frenchmen  took  part  in  the  performance,  one  as  first 
violin,  the  other  as  rehearser  of  roles  and  stage  assistant; 
these  are:  MM.  Gustave  Fridrich,  who  was  long  a  first 
violin  at  the  Opera  and  at  the  Societe  des  Concerts; 
and  Edouard  Risler,  the  young  and  already  great  pianist, 
one  of  the  brightest  blossoms  of  our  Conservatoire  de 
Paris,  who  accompanied  on  the  piano  the  majority  of  the 
stage  rehearsals. 

These  two  artists,  whose  extreme  value  and  devotion 
Mme.  Wagner  fully  appreciates,  have  several  times  been 
called  upon,  in  company  with  the  greatest  singers,  to 
charm  her  audience  of  distinguished  guests  at  the  Wahn- 
fried  soirees  during  the  Festival  season. 

Wagner  attached  a  very  great  importance  to  the  scenery 
which  he  planned  himself  and  which  was  executed  under 
his  orders  and  after  his  minute  directions  by  the  artist- 
decorators.      The  smallest  detail  did  not  escape  him. 

It  is  easy  to  understand  that  in  an  entirely  darkened 
hall,  where  the  eyes  of  the  spectator  are  neither  dazzled 
by  the  footlights  nor  attracted  by  any  trifling  or  passing 
incidents,  the  expressive  force  of  the  scenery  is  singularly 
increased.  The  curtain  itself  is  expressive.  It  does  not 
rise,  as  everywhere  else;  it  parts  in  the  middle  gracefully, 
rising  towards  the  top  corners  with  a  suddenness  or  a 
deliberate  majesty  according  to  circumstances,  regulated, 
like  everything  else,  by  the  scrupulously  careful  Master 
who  left  nothing  to  run  the  risks  of  interpretation.  For 
example,  after  the  terrifying  scene  with  which  Gbtter- 
d'dmmerung  ends,  the  curtain  closes  as  if  regretfully,  let- 
ting us  gaze  long  on  the  affecting  flames  of  the  pyre  and 


OF    RICHARD    WAGNER  497 

the  conflagration  of  Walhalla  ;  whilst  it  brusquely  shuts 
out  the  riotous  buffoonery  in  the  scenes  of  the  second 
Act  of  Die  Meister singer,  by  falling  at  a  single  blow  as 
the  theatre  is  flooded  with  light  amidst  the  joyous  laugh- 
ter of  the  spectators. 

If  the  Wagnerian  scenery  is  not  always  of  extraordi- 
nary richness,  if  it  is  more  sober  than  that  of  the  Opera 
de  Paris,  or  of  the  Chatelet,  it  is,  on  the  other  hand,  more 
harmonious,  and  by  this  I  mean  that  it  harmonizes  better 
with  the  work,  and,  so  to  speak,  is  incorporated  with  it; 
with  rare  exceptions  it  succeeds  in  producing  the  desired 
illusion. 

Among  those  that  seem  to  me  defective,  I  will  par- 
ticularly mention  that  of  the  Flower- Maidens  with  its 
loud  and  brutal  tones  and  monstrous  and  improbable 
blooms,  which  rather  remind  one  of  the  hotel  wall- 
decorations  of  small  provincial  towns  than  of  flowers  of 
magic  and  sorcery;  the  Rainbow  of  the  last  scene  of  Das 
Rbeingold,  which  seems  to  be  made  of  wood  ;  the  tableau 
of  the  Venusberg,  which  has  never  been  a  success  on  any 
stage,  and  which,  perhaps,  it  is  impossible  to  realize;  the 
God  Loge  may  be  reproached  for  bis  extreme  parsimony 
in  the  matter  of  the  flames  which  should  surround  the 
sleeping  Walkyric  on  all  sides;  the  Ride  may  be  con- 
sidered childish.  But  these  are  very  small  details,  to 
which  we  attach  no  importance  whateyer  when  we  are 
captivated  by   the   subject. 

What  we  may  regard  with  unbounded  admiration  are 
the  superb  pictures  of  the  first  and  third  acts  of  Lohen- 
grin, the  Ship  and  Kareol  in  Tristan  und  Isolde,  almost  all 
the  scenery  of  Die  Meister singer,  and  that  one  (which 
perhaps  is  the  most  striking  of  all  in  its  austere  sincerity) 
of  the  first  and  third  acts  of  Parsifal',  in  the  Tetralog) 
of  The  Ring  of  the  Nibelung,  the  first  scene  of  the  Prologue, 


498  THE    MUSIC    DRAMAS 

the  depths  of  the  Rhine,  Alberich's  cavern,  the  Rock  of 
the  Walkyries,  the  Forge,  the  forest  scene  by  the  Rhine, 
and  the  two  views,  interior  and  exterior,  of  Gunther's 
abode  with  the  river  in  the  background.  All  these  are, 
in  truth,  splendid,  and  add  not  a  little  to  the  emotion 
roused  by  the  music. 

Despite  all  that  has  been  said  about  it,  the  machinery 
is  not  at  all  extraordinary;  it  is  that  of  every  well- 
organized  theatre ;  sometimes,  however,  it  is  very  inge- 
nious, but  always  with  simple  means  ;  thus  the  scenery 
in  Parsifal,  which  passes  first  from  left  to  right  and  then 
from  right  to  left,  giving  the  spectator  the  impression 
that  it  is  he  who  is  moving,  is  managed  by  simply  rolling 
up,  on  vertical  cylinders,  with  varying  speed,  lengths  of 
scenery  placed  at  different  distances  on  the  stage.  To 
avoid  closing  the  curtains  at  the  change  of  scene  there  is 
an  ingenious  system  of  jets  of  vapour  rising  from  the 
ground  and  mingling  with  the  clouds  painted  on  gauze, 
cleverly  concealing  from  the  audience  what  is  passing  on 
the  stage.  The  Rhine-Daughters,  who  seem  to  be  really 
swimming  in  the  waters,  moving  with  surprising  ease, 
and  covering  the  whole  height  of  the  scene,  sometimes 
darting  to  the  very  top  as  if  to  breathe  the  air  at  the  sur- 
face of  the  water,  are  simply  lying  in  a  kind  of  metal 
case,  raised  by  means  of  invisible  cords  by  strong  work- 
men moving  freely  above  the  stage.1  At  the  first  re- 
hearsal one  of  the  Undines  fainted  ;  however,  there  is 
no  danger,  for  each  of  them  is  provided  with  six  men 
commanded  by  one  of  the  assistant  stage-musicians  who 
sees  that  their  evolutions  coincide  with  the  music  and 
with  the  impotent  efforts  of  Alberich,  who  looks  like  a 
St.  Bernard  the  Hermit  chasing  prawns,  or  sea-horses,  in 

1  This  device  dates  from  1896.  The  means  employed  in  1876 
was  at  once  more  complicated  and  less  ingenious. 


OF    RICHARD    WAGNER  499 

an  aquarium.  The  Dragon  is  the  ordinary  fairy-stage 
contrivance  ;  a  man  makes  him  open  his  jaws  and  roll 
his  eyes,  while  the  actor  (Fafner),  standing  behind  the 
scenery  at  the  back,  bellows  and  roars  into  an  immense 
speaking-trumpet. 

The  stage  business  is  quite  different  to  ours.  The 
actors  play  much  less  to  the  audience  than  to  each  other ; 
they  look  at  each  other  when  they  speak  ;  they  are  not 
afraid  of  turning  their  backs  on  the  audience  when  occa- 
sion demands,  witness  Parsifal,  who  stands  in  this  atti- 
tude in  the  foreground  without  moving  during  half  of  the 
first  act  :  they  behave  on  the  stage  as  they  would  do  in 
real  life,  without  seeming  to  be  conscious  of  an  audience 
in  front  of  them.  This  is  so  natural  to  them  that  it 
does  not  seem  at  all  remarkable  to  us  ;  but  if  one  of 
them  happens  to  differ  and  act  in  the  conventional  man- 
ner, addressing  his  gestures  and  words  to  the  audience, 
we  are  immediately  astonished  and  shocked.  When 
there  is  a  chorus,  moreover,  the  members  do  not  arrange 
themselves  symmetrically  in  two  rows,  drawn  up  like  sol- 
diers in  line,  or  in  a  half-circle,  exactly  facing  the  audi- 
ence and  raising  their  arms  all  together  like  automata  at 
the  loudest  note.  Each  one  has  his  individual  part,  he 
plays,  sings,  and  acts  it,  and  the  result  is  a  feeling  of 
truth  and  life  that   is  infinitely  more  satisfying. 

Wagner,  then,  had  long  put  in  practice  the  system  of 
natural  stage  action  tried  of  late  years  at  the  Theatre- 
Libre  in  Paris  by  a  French  comedian,  —  a  system,  which, 
most  happily,  tends  more  and  more  to  be  generally 
adopted. 

The  men's  costumes  are  generally  very  beautiful ; 
those  of  the  women  do  not  lend  themselves  to  splendour 
so  readily  as  the  brilliant  armour  of  the  Knights.  With 
the  exception  of  the  martial  equipment  of  the  Walkyries, 


500 


THE    MUSIC    DRAMAS 


a  few  rich  female  toilettes  in  Lohengrin,  and  the  betrothal 
toilettes  of  Eva  and  Isolde,  Oueen  of  Cornwall,  the 
heroines,  by  their  very  character,  are  not  intended  to 
make  a  parade  of  elegance.  Let  us  note  in  passing  that 
Freia's  adornment,  in  Rbeingold,was  copied  in  detail  from 
one  of  the  most  graceful  figures  in  Botticelli's  Spring. 

The  expenses  are  very  considerable  ;  to  give  only  one 
example,  the  cost  of  staging  Der  Ring  des  Nibelungen  in 
1896  amounted  to  800,000  francs  ($160,000),  spread 
over  two  years'  work. 

I  would  inform  those  who  are  astonished  at  this  expense 
that  the  scenery  alone  (that  of  1876  having  been  lost),  cost 
1  55,000  francs  ($3 1,000),  35,000  francs($7,OOo)of  which 
went  for  the  clouds  alone;  and  the  scenery  is  not  all; 
there  is  its  maintenance  and  machinery,  the  maintenance 
of  the  theatre  itself  during  the  off  years  ;  the  costumes,  the 
lighting,  for  which  a  special  electrical  plant  has  been  estab- 
lished near  the  theatre  ;  then  there  are  the  travelling  and 
lodging  expenses  for  all  the  artists,  singers,  soloists,  mem- 
bers of  the  chorus,   instrumentalists,  etc. 

Finally,    here,   as    in   every  other  theatre,  there    is  a 

number  of  persons  who   are  never  seen  by  the  spectator, 

but    who   are    necessary   for    working    the    scenery   and 

machinery,  for  lighting  and  dressing ;   here  they  are   in 

detail : 

2  head  scene  shifters. 

2  assistant  shifters. 
28    working    shifters    (from    Dresden,    Carlsruhe, 

Darmstadt,  etc.) 
45  carpenters. 
10  joiners. 

10  ordinary  workmen. 
1  chief  of  the  light  effects. 

3  assistants. 

1  chief  of  the  general  lighting. 
5  assistants. 


On  the  stage  :  ■ 


i 


OF    RICHARD    WAGNER 


501 


, ,  .1       ,     .  •     (  1  chief  engineer. 

At  the  electric  V  ,  .     b  ,        .  .  ■        ,       , 

,  <  2  working  electricians  tor  running  the  dynamos, 

plant  :  )  1.  , 

(.  2  ordinary  workmen. 

f      1  head  tailor. 

4  tailms. 

5  coutur tires. 
12  dressers  (when   Tristan  or  Lohengrin  is  played, 

and  then   an   sometimes  250  peopli  on  the  stage, 
the  number  of  dressers  is  in<  reased  to  So). 

1  chief  hail  di  esser. 

1  chief  female  hairdi esser. 

4  hairdressers. 

Total:  140  to  220  persons. 

Adding  together  the  actors,  dancers,  and  chorus  who 
may  be  on  the  stage  (sometimes  250),  the  orchestra  with 
its  full  complement  of  1  1  horns  and  8  harps  (125),  and  the 
stage  assistants  (220)  we  arrive  at  a  grand  total  of  603  as 
the  respectable  effective  of  the  little  army  gathered  directly 
or  indirectly  under  the  command  of  the  Conductor. 

There  is  no  bell  to  announce  the  end  of  the  entr'acte. 
When  the  time  has  come,  a  band  of  trumpets  and  trom- 
bones furnished  by  the  regiment  in  garrison  at  Bayreuth, 
but  in  civilian  costume,  comes  out  or  the  theatre  and 
sounds  a  loud  flourish  to  the  four  cardinal  points  in  suc- 
cession. Like  all  the  rest,  the  m  for  these  calls 
have  been  regulated  by  Wagner  himself.  They  are 
always  taken  from  the  work  being  played  and  announce 
one  of  the  motive  of  the  act  about  to  commence.  Here 
is  the  full  list : 

TANNHAUSER  Act  I 

THE    HUNT 


Trumpets  in  C 


T  W  f    f 


502 


THE    MUSIC    DRAMAS 


BEGINNING    OF    THE    MARCH 


Act  I] 


MOTIV    OF    PARDON 


A  A 


A         A  /V  O 


Tromb. 


Act  III 


LOHENGRIN 
THE    KING'S    CALL, 


7/ 


Act  1 


Act  II 


THE    MYSTERY    OF    THE    NAME 


Trumpets    / 
in  0        / 

rfi^   a- 

A 

A 

A 

A 

A 

Tromb     ' 

JJ  A 

A 

A 

A 

A 

A 

V 
A 

Troinb. 


OF    RICHARD    WAGNER  503 

An    III 


TRISTAN    UND    ISOLDE 


Act  I 


FRAGMENT    OF    THE    YOUNG    SAILOR'S    SONG 


Tromb 


fy\l  *  'I  r  rh'  jl| 


M>     ^ 


^ 


Wi.  f  *  ^ 


£ 


m 


T^r-Hr 


Alt   II 


DEATH 


504- 


THE    MUSIC    DRAMAS 


Act  III 


FRAGMENT    OF    SADNESS  —  MOTIV 
OF    THE    SHEPHERD 


Trumpets 
in  C 


Tromb. 


fy       ^  "f — — 

3       br 

EEEES  L,„  1    J      '          1      =■ 

DIE   MEISTERSINGER 


Act  I 


Tromb 


DIE    MEISTERSINGER 

.AAA        ** 


Act  II 


THE    SERENADE 


a    a     g 


Act  III 


FANFARE    OF    THE    CORPORATIONS 


Tromb 


OF    RICHARD    WAGNER  505 

DIE    TETRALOGIE    DER    RING    DES 

NIBELUNGEN 


DAS     RHEINGOLD 
INCANTATION    OF    THE    THUNDER 


Tronib 


Trumpets 


Tromb. 


Trumpet 


Tromb 


DIE    WALK.URE 
THE    SWORD 


Acts  I  and  II 


THE    SWORD 


Act  III 


506 


THE    MUSIC    DRAMAS 

SIEGFRIED  Act  I 

CALL    OF    THE    SON    OF    THE    WOODS 


Act  II 


VARIATION    OF    THE    CALL    OF    THE 
SON    OF    THE    WOODS 


Trumpets 


Tromb. 


Act  III 
SIEGFRIED    GUARDIAN    OF    THE    SWORD 


Trumpets 


Tromb. 


t  '»  .  »       -e- 


DIE    GOTTERDAMMERUNG 
CURSE  OF  THE  RING 


Act  I 


Trumpets ; 


TrOmpets 


OF    RICHARD   WAGNER  507 

Act  II 
CALL    TO    THE    MARRIAGE 

/7\ 


Act  III 


WALHALLA 


Jj  a  t      e  •■    «P 

1 

.■#•■*■     ^ 

p 



*— 

r  '     p~ 

***4     ^J    '      VJ/ 

v 

Tromb. 


PARSIFAL 
THE    EUCHARIST 


PARSIFAL 


Act  I 


Act  II 


5o8 


THE   MUSIC    DRAMAS 


Act  III 


THE    EUCHARIST 


Trumpets 
in  IS  flat 


Tromb. 


THE    LANCE 


i'^  j.>Hj.JU^^ 


The  number  of  trumpeters  varies  in  accordance  with 
the  importance  of  the  moth  that  serves  as  the  call,  and 
according  to  whether  it  is  presented  with  or  without  its 
harmony  ;  for  the  last  calls  of  Lohengrin  and  Gotterdam- 
merung,  which  are  given  with  exceptional  pomp,  there 
are  as   many  as   24  musicians. 

The  "  three  traditional  blows  "  are  not  struck.  When 
in  obedience  to  the  orders  of  the  herald-trumpeters  ever)  - 
one  has  returned  to  his  seat,  darkness  follows,  bringing 
with  it  complete  silence.  A  whole  minute  passes  thus 
in  profound  reflection,  and  then  the  first  sound  issues 
from  the  orchestra. 

That  is  dignified,  solemn,  and  majestic,  and  commands 
respect. 

We  have  now  ended  this  study  of  the  Theatre  of 
Bayreuth  and  its  arrangements.  I  hope  that  the  reader 
has  taken  as  much  interest  in  reading  it  as  I  myself 
have  experienced  pleasure  in  gathering  together  the 
materials. 

I  have  thought  it  necessary  to  enter  into  many  details, 
some  of  which  may  seem  idle  to  some  people,  but  not  to 
all ;  in  mv  opinion,  nothing  is  insignificant  when  we  are 
dealing  with  an  organization  that  is  so  wonderfully  com- 
prehensive and  complete. 


OF    RICHARD    WAGNER 


509 


I  have  been  able  to  demonstrate   bow  easy  and   a 
able  is  the  short   necessary  journey,  and  to  describe  the 
courteous  and  welcome  reception  one  is  sure  of  receiving 


ANTON     i- 1  ni..1 

from    the    Bayreuth    inhabitants;    I    have    succeeded     in 
broadly  sketching  the  principal  periods  of   the  life  ot  the 

1  Anton  Seidl  (born  in  Budapest,  May  7,  iS<;o),  who  was  invited 
to  conduct  Parsifal  in  Bayreuth  in  1X97,  ranks  among  the  gn 
of  the  Wagnerian  conductors,  not  only  because  of  liin  genius  and 


5io  THE    MUSIC    DRAMAS 

creator  of  all  these  prodigious  marvels,  a  life  so  troubled 
and  yet  led   in  a  straight  line,  keeping  tenaciously  and 

scholarship,  but  because  he  also  possessed  the  correct  Wagnerian 
traditions_given  to  him  by  the  composer  himself.  A  pupil  of  Hans 
Richter,  he  became  Wagner's  musical  secretary  in  1872,  was  one  of 
his  musical  stage-directors  for  the  Festival  of  the  Ring  in  1876,  and 
lived  at  Wahnfried  for  six  years  on  the  most  intimate  terms  with 
Wagner.  Wagner  confided  to  him  the  task  of  arranging  the  greater 
part  of  the  first  vocal  score  of  Parsifal.  He  conducted  the  Nibe- 
lungen  Ring  in  Berlin  in  1880,  in  London  in  1881,  and  introduced 
this  work  in  Konigsberg,  Dantzig,  Brussels,  Amsterdam,  Karlsruhe, 
Darmstadt,  Stuttgart,  Hanover,  Venice,  Bologna,  Rome,  Turin, 
Trieste,  Budapest,  and  other  European  cities,  with  the  greatest  suc- 
cess. In  1885  Mr.  Seidl  came  to  New  York  to  become  conductor 
of  the  Metropolitan  Opera  House.  Under  his  direction  were  repre- 
sented for  the  first  time  in  America  :  Die  Meistersinger,  Jan.  4,1886; 
Tristan  una"  Isolde,  Dec.  1,  1886  ;  Siegfried,  Nov.  9,  1887  ;  Die 
Gotterdammeriing,  Jan.  25,  1888;  and  Das  Rheingold,  Jan.  4,  1889. 
Mr.  Seidl  conducted  the  Wagnerian  operas  in  London  in  1897,  and 
was  to  have  conducted  two  cycles  of  the  Nibelungen  Ring  at  Covent 
Garden  in  June,  1898.  Almost  the  last  words  he  ever  wrote  were 
the  following,  which  he  sent  to  me  on  March  26,  for  this  book,  in 
which  he  took  much  interest.      I  quote  verbatim  :  — 

"The  Parsifal  conductors  of  1897  :  Anton  Seidl,  the  1st,  5th, 
6th,  7th,  and  8th  performances;  Felix  Mottl,  the  2d,  3d,  and  4th 
performances  ;  Hermann  Levi  doesn't  conduct  any  more  ;  Siegfried 
Wagner  conducted  (1897)  the  second  and  third  cycles  of  the  Nibe- 
lungen Ring;  Hans  Richter  conducted  only  the  first  cycle  of  The 
Ring  of  the  Nibelungen  (1897).  The  list  in  1897  of  Parsifal : 
Amforfas,  Carl  Perron;  Titurel,  Wilhelm  Fenten  ;  Gurnemanz, 
Carl  Grengg  and  Carl  Wachter;  Parsifal,  Van  Dyck  and  Gaining  •, 
Klingsor,  Fritz  Plank;  Kundry,  Marie  Brema  and  Miss  Mil- 
denburg." 

In  1890  Anton  Seidl  became  conductor  of  the  New  York  Phil- 
harmonic  Society  and  held  this  post  at  the  time  of  his  greatly  de- 
plored death,  which  occurred  suddenly  in  New  York  on  March  28, 
1898.  Although  Seidl's  fame  will  rest  chiefly  on  his  Wagnerian 
work,  it  is  only  just  to  the  memory  of  this  exceptionally  great  mu- 
sician to  say  that  his  interpretations  of  Bach  and  Beethoven  would 
alone  have  placed  him  among  the  greatest  conductors  the  world  has 
ever  produced.  His  insight  into  the  score,  his  loyalty  to  the  com- 
po  1  r,  his  repose,  and  his  peculiar  magnetic  temperament,  which 
communicated  itself  alike  to  the  orchestra  and  to  the  audience, 
made  him  unique  among  orchestral  leaders.  — E.  S. 


OF   RICHARD    WAGNER  511 

unswervingly  towards  the  unique  goal  he  finally  attained  ; 
I  have  been  able  to  furnish  a  twofold  analysis  which 
seems  to  me  capable  of  serving  as  a  guide  to  the  neo- 
phyte and  facilitating  his  comprehension  of  the  pure 
Wagnerian  style,  at  least  when  he  hears  it  for  the  first 
time  ;  I  have,  moreover,  been  able  to  make  the  reader 
acquainted  with  the  details  of  the  inner  mechanism  of 
the  Festival-Theatre  and  its  Model  Performances,  in 
which  everything  is  combined  at  once  by  art  and  knowl- 
edge to  minister  to  the  delight  of  the  ear,  the  eye,  and 
the  intellect ;  but  what  I  must  despair  of  expressing,  be- 
cause it  is  inexpressible,  is  the  profound  and  lasting  emo- 
tion which  springs  from  the  entire  surroundings  of  an 
interpretation  thus  conceived  and  prepared.  We  may 
hear  Wagner  everywhere  else  under  apparently  satisfac- 
tory conditions  with  some  of  the  same  interpreters,  or 
even  with  interpreters  who  are  superior,  if  you  will;  but 
nowhere  else  do  we  live  the  lives  of  the  characters  of 
the  drama  or  identify  ourselves  with  them  in  the  same 
manner,  nowhere  else  are  we  bound  as  by  a  spell  —  and 
what  a  sweet  spell ! — by  the  dramatic  and  musical  action. 

He  who  has  had  the  privilege  of  hearing  and  enjoying 
a  fine  Bayreuth  performance  of  Parsifal,  the  Tetralogy, 
or  Die  Meistersinger  departs  with  the  delightful  sensation 
of  having  been  morally  elevated. 

For  lack  of  means  of  comparison  there  is  only  one 
way  to  form  any  idea  of  this  salutary  and  quasi-magnetic 
fascination,  and  that  is  to  pav  a  personal  visit  to  Bay- 
reuth ;  no  description,  however  ardent  and  enthusiastic, 
can  take  the  place  of  the  journey. 

"  He  who  would  understand  the  poet  must  visit  the  country 
of  the  poet."  We  can  thoroughlv  understand  Wagner 
onlv  by  going  to  Bayreuth,  just  as  we  can  understand 
Raphael  only  by  visiting  the  museums  of  Italy. 


TRISTAN    UND    ISOLDE 
In   1886,    1889,    1891,  and    1891 


I  ■  [,,  MouL 
C«rl  Mlick. 


Porges. 
ingaertner. 


I 

Wirrh 
\C.  Harder. 


lOUo  Gteseker. 
Eng.  Humpcrdinck. 

■ 

1 ; 
I  Arthur  Smolian. 
Vkii  haid  Strauss. 


mbruster. 
Albert  Gorter. 

ling.  Minn 
Otto  Lobse. 
Oscar  Merz. 

■ 


Carl    rVrmbi 


master). 

U.,x  Shilling. 

v.  tgaw. 


I  Heinr.  Wiegand 
Friiz  Plank. 


Mclot 

A  shepherd 


nliuhlcr. 

i  Hilper. 
)  Kelferer. 

(  The'rese  Malten. 


A.  Orupp. 
W.  Guggenllihlei 
t  A.  DippeL 

W  Gerhartx. 

Rosa  Sucher. 


A.  Grupp. 

,     nliuhlcr. 

Heinr.  Scheuten. 
Rosa  Sucher. 


Helm   Zeller. 

1 

<  teorg  Htipeden. 
Rosa  Sucher. 


DIE     MEISTERSINGER 

In  1S8S,  i 

89,  and  1892. 

1888 

1889 

1892 

Conductors  : 

Hans  Richter. 
Felix  Motll. 

Hermann  Levi. 
Felix  Mottl. 

Julius  Kniese 

Hermann   Levi. 

Hans  Richter. 

Felix  Mottl. 
Carl  Miick, 
Hans  Richter. 

Chorus-masters:     Julius  Kniese. 

Julius  Kniese. 
Heinrich  Porges. 

Ileinrich  Porges. 

Carl  Armbruster. 

Carl  Armbruster  (riirectc 

Carl  Franck. 

Otto  Gieseker. 

of  music  on  the  stage] 

C.  Armbruster. 

Eng.  Humperdinck. 

Kurt.  H6sel 

Rehearsers 

E.  Ilumperdinck. 

Oscar  Merz. 

Eng.  Humpenlirick. 

Bopp. 

Hugo  Rohr. 

Oscar  Merz. 

on  the  stage  : 

'.(scar  Merz. 

Heinrich  Schwartz. 

Carl  Pohlig. 

Anln.it  Smolian. 

Heinrich    Porees   (chnru 

Max  Schlosser. 

Richard  Strauss. 

mas.er). 

Alfred  Steinmann. 

Max  Schilling. 

Kienzl. 

Siegfried  Wagner. 

Fritz  Plank. 

Franz  Betz. 

Eugen  Gura. 

Hans  Sachs. 

Tlieodor  Reichmann. 

Eugen  Gura. 

Fritz  Plank. 

Carl  Si  heidemantel. 

Theodor  Reichmann. 

Veit  Pogner- 

C.  Gillmeister. 
H.  Wiegand. 

Heinrich  Wiegand. 

Moritz  Frauscher. 

Sextiis  Beckmesser. 

F.  Friedrichs. 
B.  Kiirner. 

F.  Friedrichs. 

Emil  Miiller. 
Carl  Nebe. 

Fritz  Kothner. 

Eniil  Hettsladt. 
Osc.  Schneider. 

Ernst  Wehrle. 

Hermann  Bachmann. 

Walter  von  Stolzdng. 

Heinr.  Gudehus. 

Heinr.  Gudehus. 

Georg  Ant  lies. 

David. 

C.  Hedmondt. 

Seb.  Hofmuller. 

Max  Krausse. 

s   Hofmuller. 

Fritz  Schrbdter. 

Vogelsang. 

Otto  Prelinger. 

Franz  Denninger. 

Gerhard  Pikanescr. 

Nachtigall 

W.  Gerhartz. 

W.  Gerhartz. 

Theodor  Bertram. 

Zorn. 

A.  Grupp. 

A.  Grupp. 

A.  Grupp. 

Eialinger. 

J.  Demuth. 

A.  Dippel. 

F.  Palm. 

Moaer. 

\V.  Guggenbiihler. 

W.  Guggenbiihler. 

M.  Moscow. 

OrteL 

Eugen  Gebrath. 

Eugen  Gebrath. 

Carl  Bucha. 

Schwartz. 

Max  Hal  per. 

Heinrich  Hobbing. 

Oscar  Schlemmer. 

FoltE. 

Carl  Selzburg. 

Carl  Selzburg. 

Adalbert  Krahmer. 

A  night-watchman. 

F.  Ludwig. 

F.  Ludwig. 

Peter  Ludwig. 

^_                   ( 

Kattii  Hettaque. 

Lilli  Dressier. 

Alexandra  Mitschiner. 

Eva. 

I'll- rev,,  Malten. 
Rosa  Sucher. 

Louise  Reuss-Belce. 

Luise  Mulder. 

Magdalene. 

Gisela  Staudigl. 

Gisela  Staudigl. 

Gisela  Staudigl. 

Chorus  of  56  men 

Chorus  of  55  men 

Chorus  of  61  men 

and  41  women. 

and  41  women. 

and  43  women. 

PARSIFAL 
In  1881,  1883,  1884,  1886,  1888,  188; 


O 


1883 

1883 

1884 

1886 

1888 

:889 

1891 

189a 

1894 

|  Hermann  Levi. 
j  Franz  Fischer. 

j  Hermann  Levi. 

Hermann  Levi 

I  Hermann  Levi. 

Felix  MottL 

1  Hermann  Levi. 

Hermann  Levi.         j 

Hermann  Levi. 

Hermann  Levi, 

Conductors: 

1  Fran*  Pitcher. 

Franz  Fischer. 

1  helix  Motll. 

|  Fclu  MottL 

Felix  Mottl. 

Felix  Mottl. 

Fein  MottL 

Chorus- 

Ma  mrrn: 

Julius  Knicse. 

i  Julius  Kniese. 
|  II  Porges. 

Julius  Kniese. 
H.  Porges. 

Mulius  Knicae. 

MI    Porgea. 

1  ; 

J.  Knieoe. 

/  H.  Porges. 

H.  Porges. 

/C.  Armbruster. 

C.  Aimlirusler. 

Amibruster  (director  of  the 

Armbruster. 

■ 

II.  Purges. 

C.  Franck. 

Otto  Gieseler. 

A.  Gorter. 

music  on  the  stage). 

1 

Oscar  Merz. 

F.  Weingaertner. 

C.  Armbruster. 

Eng.  lluiniierdinck. 

n])crdinck. 

Kurt   Hdsel 

iK.ar  ]Unger. 

0 1.1.'  Humpi  rdini  It, 

Eng.  Humperdinck. 

C.  Franck. 

Eng   Humperdinck, 

1  0.  Merz. 

Otto  Lohse. 

Eng.  Humperdinck. 

Fr.  Mikoren. 

11  1  Men. 

|  Hugo  Kohr. 
1  H.  Schwartz. 

O.  Merz. 

C.  Pohlig. 

1  itio  i  Hi  bei 

Franz  Thorns. 

Otto  Ilicbcr. 

A.  Gorier. 

O.  Merz. 

Paumgartner. 

C!  Pohlig. 

' 

managers : 

Stich. 

Wirth. 

Singer. 
Schlosser. 

1  Art.  Smotian. 

Hugo  Rohr. 

: 

1    ■ 

Franz  Thorns. 

\C.  H.ijder. 

W<ich.  Strauss. 

Hans  Steiner. 

chorus  of  Flower-Maidens. 

■ 

A.  Gorter. 

Stelnmann. 

Rich.  Strauss. 

Max  Schilling, 
Siegf.  Wagner. 

Relchmann 

Keichmann. 

Keichmann. 

E.  Gura. 

Keichmann. 

i  Carl  Perron. 

Reich  mann. 

J.  Kaschmann. 

Kaschmann. 

Amforbu. 

Keichmann. 

Scheidemantel. 

|  Keichmann. 

Scheidemantel. 

Scheidemantel. 

Keichmann.' 
Takatz. 

TitureL 

KJndermann. 

Fuchs. 

Fuchs. 

Schneider. 

Heinr-Hobbing. 
Schneider. 

Lievermann, 

C.  Bucha. 
Fr.  Schlosser. 

C.  Bucha. 

Bucha. 

Wi In,   F,, .t-.it 

_ 

Si  .nia. 

(  S.iria. 

Scaria. 

1  siehr. 

Gillmeister. 

;  E.  BlauwaerL 

Carl  Grengg. 

Moritz  Frauscher. 

Cart  Grengg. 

Oumemiint 

Siclir. 

\  Siehr. 

Siehr. 

1  Wiegand. 

Wiegand. 

Siehr. 

;  Wiegand. 
Van  Dyck. 

Wiegand. 

Carl  Grengg. 

Max  Mosel. 

Gudchua. 

Gudehus. 

Gudehus. 

Ernst  van  1  lyck. 

Van  Dyck. 

Van  Dyck.                                  | 

Farmfal. 

Winkelmann. 

1  Winkelmann. 

Winkelmann. 

Ileinr.  Vogl. 
Winkelmann. 

Ferd.  Jager. 

Gi  uning. 

Gru„,„, 

Van  Dyck. 

Cruning. 

Plank. 

KlitiKitor 

Hill 

Pegela. 

Plank. 

Plank. 

Plank. 

1  Anton  Fuchs. 

Liepe.                        J 

Scheidemantel. 

Scheidemantel. 

1  Lievermann. 

Plank.                     " 

1 3 

Popovici. 

1st  Knight 

Fuchs. 

Fuchs. 

K-llcrer. 

A.  Grupp, 

A.  Grupp. 

A.  Grupp. 

A.  Grupp. 

GerMuser. 

Gerhauser. 

2d  Knight 

Stumpf. 

Siumpf. 

Wieden. 

Schneider. 

Wieden. 

Wieden. 

C.  Bucha. 

C.  Bocha, 

C.  Bucha. 

3d  Enquire 

Hubbenet. 

Hubbenet 

Hubbenet. 

Forest. 

Hofm  idler. 

Dippel. 
Hofmuller. 

Zeller. 

Mux  Wandren. 

Scheuten. 

4th  Enquire 

Mikorey. 

Mikorey. 

Mikorey. 

Guggenbiihler. 

Guggenbiihler. 

Guggenbiihler. 

Scheuten. 

Guggenbiihler. 

Hans  Breuer. 

lot  Esquire. 

KliI. 

Keil. 

Keil. 

Reuss-Belce. 

Kaufe, 

Kaufer. 
Reuss-Belce. 

Klein. 

Luise  Mulder. 

Luise  Mulder. 

2d  Esquire. 

Galfy. 

Galfy. 

Calfy. 

Sieber. 

FranconL 

Franconi. 

Luise  Mulder. 

Franconi. 

Deppe. 

Kuiidry.            1 

■ 

Materna.                  j 

Materna. 

Malten.                ( 

Malten. 

Malten.                   ( 

Mailhac.                      ( 

Mailhac.                                   ( 

Brema. 

1 

M.lllL'll. 

Molten.                 \ 

Malten. 

Materna.                  ] 

Maltema. 

Materna. 

Malten. 

Malten.                                        I 

Malten. 

Sucher.                  ( 

Sm  ber. 

V 

Materna.                    ( 

Mohor-Ravenstein.                  ( 

Sucher. 

Hot  son. 

1 

Her  tog. 

Ftitsch. 

Itettaque. 

fBorchers.                     1 

de  Anna.                       1 

Ilamvig.                                       r 

dc  Anna. 

U<  ti 

Mere. 

Dietrich. 

Lilli  I'ressler. 

Hedinger. 

Hedinger. 

Deppe. 

Plowor- 

Keil. 

M    ,1    ■   n. 

ilorson. 

Hedinger. 

Ftitsch. 

Frltsch. 

Herzog.                        I 

Milschiner. 

Holldobler. 

M uii limn  : 

Andre. 

1 

Keil. 

Hedinger. 

Hedinger. 

Klein.                           1 

Mulder. 

Belce, 

Galfy. 

lalfy. 

Reuss-Belce. 

Kaufer. 

Stolzenberg. 

Pfund. 

Mulder. 

Galfy. 

1  Belce.                        1 

Belce. 

Sieber. 

Rigl- 

Reuss-Belce.                1 

Wiborg.                      1 

Wiborg. 

/.ernn. 

Chorus 

Chorus 

Chorus 

Chorus 

Chorus 

Chorus 

Chorus 

Chorus 

Chorus 

of  56  men, 

of  55  men, 

of  53  men. 

of  61  men. 

of  65  men, 

46  women,  and 

45  children 

45  children. 

45  children. 

4$  children. 

45  children. 

45  children. 

40  children. 

40  children. 

40  children. 

BIBLIOGRAPHY 


CATALOGUE   OF    THE   MOST    IMPORTANT    BOOKS 
PUBLISHED    IN    FRENCH  ON    RICHARD    WAGNER 

AND    HIS    WORK.1 

I  head  the  list  with  Wagner's  own  writings.  The  others  arc 
classified  alphabetically  according  to  authors.  The  asterisk  indi- 
cates those  to  which  I  have  been  most  largely  indebted. 

R.  Wagner.    Art  et  Politique.     (Bruxelles.    J.  Sannes,  1868.) 
R.  Wagner.     Lejudaisine  dans  laMusique.    (Bruxelles.  J.Sannes, 
1869.) 

*  R.  Wagner.     L'CEuvre  et  la  Mission  de  ma  Vic,  trad,   [iippeau. 
( Dentil. ) 

*  Richard  Wagner.     Quatre  Poemes  d'operas  (Le  Vaisseau  Fan- 

tome,  Tannhacuser,   Lohengrin,  Tristan  et   Iseult)  precedes  d'une 

lettre  sur  la  musique,  avec  notice  de  Charles  Nuitter. 

Nouvelle  edition.     (A.  Durand  et fils  et  Calmann-Uvy,  (893.J 
Baudelaire.     Richard  Wagner  et  Tannhauser  a  Paris.     (1861.) 
*Camille  Benoit.     Richard  Wagner,  Souvenirs,  traduits  de  I'alle- 

mand.     [Charpentier,  1S84.) 
Camille    Benoit.     Lcs    Motifs   typiques   des    M. litres   Chanteurs. 

{Schott  ) 
Leonie   BernaRDINI.     Richard  Wagner.     {Marpon et Flamma 

*  Louis-Pilate  de  Brinn'  Gaubast  et    Edmond   Barthelemy. 

La  Tetralogie  de  l'Anncau  du  Nibelung.     1  /■ .'.  Dentu,  1894.) 
*Louis-Pilate   de   Brinn'  Gaubast  et  Edmond   Barthelemy. 
Les  Maitres  Chanteurs  de  Niirnberg.     (E.  D*ntu,  r 

*  Houston  Stewart  Chamber]  vin.    Le  Drame  wagn^rien.    1 

Chailley,  1S94.) 
Comte  de  Chamb run  et  Stanislas  Legis.     Wagner,  avec  une  in- 
troduction et  des  notes,  illustrations  par  Jacques  Wagrei 
umes).     [Calmann-Uvy,  1S95.) 

1  There  is  a  general  catalogue  of  all  the  writings  published  on 
Wagner,   entitled    Katalog  einer   Richard-Wagner-Biblioth 
schlagebuch  in  der  gesammten  Wagner-Litteratur.  —  3  vols.,  Leipzig, 

1886-1891. 

33 


5 14  THE   MUSIC   DRAMAS 

Champfleury.     Richard  Wagner.     (1S60.) 

Guy  de  Charnace.    Wagner  juge  par  ses  contemporains.    \Lachezc 

et  C'e,  Angers.) 
Ernest  Closson.      Siegfried    de    Richard    Wagner.       (Bruxelles, 

Sckott  frires.) 
Charles  Cotard.    Tristan  et  Isenlt.     Essai  d'analyse  du  drame  et 

des  Leitmotifs.     (Fischbacher,  1895.) 
Theodore  Duret.     Critique  d'Avant-Garde.     (1869.) 
Dwelshauvers.     R.  Wagner.     (Bibliothique  Gilon.    Verviers,  1889.J 
Dwelshauvers-Dery.     Tannhaeuser  et  le  Tournoi  des  Chanteurs  a 

la  Wartbourg.     (Fischbacher.) 
♦Alfred  Ernst.      Richard   Wagner  et   le   Drame   contemporain. 

( Calmann-  Levy  ■ ) 
♦Alfred  Ernst.     L'Art  de  Richard  Wagner.     {JPlon, Nourrit et C*, 

1893.)    ier  volume  (paru),  L'ceuvre  poetique;  2me  volume  (annonce), 

L'ceuvre  musicale. 
Alfred  Ernst  et  Poiree.     Tannh'auser      {Duraiid etfils.) 
Edmond  Evenepoel.     Le  Wagnerisme  hors  d'Allemagne  (Bruxelles 

et  la  Belgique).     (Fischbacher,  1891.) 
Flat  (Paul).     Lettres  de  Bayreuth. 
Fuchs  (Mme).     L'Opera  et  le  Drame  musical,  d'apres  l'ceuvre  de 

Richard  Wagner.     (1887.) 
Gasperini  (A.  de).     La   Nouvelle    Allemagne   musicale:    Richard 

Wagner. 

*  John  Grand-Carteret.    Wagner  en  caricatures.    ( La  roussc,  1891.) 
Marcel  Hebert.     Trois  Moments  de  la  pensee  de  Richard  Wagner. 

( Fisch  backer,  1 894 . ) 
Marcel  Hebert.     Le  Sentiment  religieux  dans  l'ceuvre  de  Richard 

Wagner.     (Fischbacher,  1895.) 
Edmond  Hippeau.      Parsifal  et  l'Opera  wagnerien.      (Fischbacher. 

1883.) 
Adolphe  Jullien.     Mozart  et  Richard  Wagner  a  l'egard  des  Fran- 

cais  (1881). 

*  Adolphe  Jullien.    Richard  Wagner,  sa  vie  et  ses  ceuvres.    (i8'86.) 
M.  K.     (Maurice  Kufferath).     Richard  Wagner  et  la  9mc  symphonie 

de  Beethoven.     (Schott,  1875.) 

M.  Kufferath.     Parsifal  de  Richard  Wagner.     (1890.) 

M.  Kufferath.  L'Art  de  diriger  l'orchestre.  Richard  Wagner  et 
Hans  Richter.     La  Neuvieme  Symphonie  de  Beethoven.     (1891.) 

♦Maurice  Kufferath.  Le  Theatre  de  R.  Wagner.  De  Tann- 
haeuser a  Parsifal.     (Fischbacher,  1891.) 

♦Maurice  Kufferath.  Lettres  de  R.  Wagner  a  Auguste  Rceckel. 
( Breitkopf  et  H artel,  1 894. ) 

Paul  Lindau.     Richard  Wagner.     (Louis  Westhauser,  1885.) 

Chari.es  de  Lorbac.     Richard  Wagner.     (1861.) 

Catulle  Mendes.     Richard  Wagner.     (1886.) 


OF    RICHARD    WAGNER  515 

M'"     I'.  \in. IK   Di     M0RSIER.     Parsifal    ct    1'ide'c   dc   la    Redemption 

(FiscAbacAer,  1893.) 
Georges  Noufflard.     Richard  Wagner  d'apres  lui-mfime.    (1 
Jacqi  es  d'Offoel.     L'Anneau  du  Nibelunget  Parsifal,  traduction 

en  prose  rythmee  exactement  adaptee  au   texte  musical  allcmand. 

(FiscAbacAer,  1895.) 
HlPPOLYTE  PrEVOST.     I  t u 1 1 .     Mir    Richard    Wagner,   a   propos   de 

Rienzi.     (1869.) 
M.  de  Romain.     I'.tudc  sur  Parsifal.     (LacAlze et  Ce,  Angers.) 
M.  de  Romain.     Musicien-philosophe  et  Musicien-poete.     [Lachize 

et  C";  Angers.) 
Km i!  1:    DE    SAINT-AUBAN.      Vn    pelerinage    a    Bayreuth.      (Albert 

Savine,  1892.) 
Camille  Saint-Saens.     Harmonie  et  Melodie. 
•Edouard  Schure.     Le  Drame  musical.    (1886.) 
Georges  SERVIERES.     Richard  Wagner  juge  en  France.     [Librairie 

illustrie. ) 
Albert  Soubies  et   Charles  Malherbe.     L'CEuvre  dramatiquc 

de  Richard  Wagner.     (Fischbachert  1885.)-  -  Kpuise. 
Albert  Soubies  et  Charles  Malherbe.    Melanges  sur  Richard 

Wagner.     (FiscAbacAer,  1892.) 
Charles  Tardietj.     Lettre  de  Bayreuth.     L'Anneau  du  Nihelung. 

Representations  donnees  en  1876.     (Schotti  1883.) 
ELIZA    WlLLE,  nee   SLOMAN.     Quinze   Lettres  de   Richard  Wagner, 

traduites  de  rallemand  par  Auguste  Slaps.     (Bruxelles,  veuve  Mon- 

110m,  1S94.) 
Hans  de  Wolzogen.     L'Anneau  ties  Nibelungen,  I'Or  du  Rhin,  la 

Valkyrie,   Siegfried,   le    Crepuscule   des    Dieux.      Guide  musical. 

(Paris,  Delagrave.) 
*  La  Revue  wagnERIENNE.     ire  annee,  du  S  fevrier  1885  au8  Jan- 
vier 1886;  2e  annee,  du  8  fevrier  1S86  au  15  Janvier  1887  (tres  rare.) 


University  Press  :  John  Wilson  &  Boo,  Cambridge,  I'.S.A. 


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